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saucerfulofsins · 2 months ago

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I haven’t seen any posts comparing Buck’s coming out to Eddie and Tommy breaking up with Buck, which is a shame because the similarities drive me insane.

Or well. I say similarities, but that’s wrong. What I should be saying is: these scenes mirror each other. This post is more about the highlights than shot by shot comparisons – for that, I’d recommend you watch them side by side yourself.

Let’s start with the first and most obvious structural parallel: both scenes happen around 32 minutes into their respective episodes/between two-thirds to three-quarters in.

Now, for the scenes themselves. They follow the same basic outline, which I’ll discuss one by one. I’m following the same structure throughout: I discuss the coming out scene, then the breakup, and then give some analysis. At the end, I’ve included a section on further things of note that I couldn’t neatly fit into this structure and my final thoughts. Is this the first time I’m using the media analysis I was taught during my minor in Arts, Culture and Media with a focus on film in 2019? Yes, yes it is.

Buckle up, because this meta/essay is nearly 3k. For that reason (i.e. accessibility/readability and the amount of work I put in), this entire piece has been cross-post to AO3 (CLICK FOR LINK).

Opening shots

Seating 1.0

Buck in the kitchen

Seating 2.0

POV shots (both perspectives)

Eddie and Tommy leaving

Miscellany

Final thoughts

Analysis under the cut:

1. Opening shots

This part includes some of the most noticeable differences between the scenes, which explains why they feel different – at least at first.

CO: Eddie’s phone comes into view first – this is his chat conversation with Marisol, which the first part of the CO scene is about (note how this mirrors the gym scene, where Buck intended to come out before the conversation lingered on Eddie and Marisol). Eddie is also closest to the door during this part of the scene – which is where he will remain throughout.

BU: The first shot is of a closed door, which Buck opens for Tommy, i.e. Tommy certainly has no keys to Buck’s place, and this might well be a callback to doors as a recurrent theme. They greet with the briefest kiss possible. I rewatched this several times to make sure it really happened – it happens immediately after a cut and it’s filmed in such a way this could easily have been an air kiss lmao. (No seriously, I had to watch this screen by screen to properly catch it, and the audio is a lot more obvious than the visual). They make small talk about the movies and Tommy having ordered an uber (clearly a throwback to 7x05), and they switch positions so Buck is actually closest to the door.

As for clear similarities: Eddie and Tommy are standing up and remain mostly in the same place; Buck is moving around the loft – it’s an expression of his nervous energy, and the major changes in these scenes are about Buck, not Eddie or Tommy.

2. Sitting down

I made this a separate point for one reason, and one reason only: In CO, Eddie takes his own initiative to sit down, while saying he should go home and Buck offering him a beer, so clearly he won’t be leaving to go home any time soon(ilu Eddie but I’m begging you, stop putting yourself and also us through this 😭). In BU, Buck tells Tommy to sit down... which is in part to signal they need a more serious talk than can be done on the way to the cinema, but also shows a massive contrast in terms of familiarity and comfort, regardless of what Buck tries to tell Tommy later.

Both Eddie and Tommy sit down on the leftmost stool (closest to the door, i.e. it’s easiest for them to leave and Buck can’t get between them).

3. Buck in the kitchen

Fun fact! Before writing this post, I checked the scene where Buck confesses to Taylor that he kissed Lucy. During that scene, Buck is sitting down at the kitchen island, while Taylor lingers in the kitchen proper (i.e. with the island between them). She has moved in at that point – kitchens represent ‘being at home’ – but there’s a physical barrier between her and Buck, and it doesn’t actually keep from her leaving (even while saying she has nowhere to go).

CO: The camera uses a dolly shot to follow Buck throughout the kitchen – to the fridge and then back to the head of the kitchen island. He’s attentively listening to Eddie complain about Marisol and God watching him have sex (cursing God while sluttily drinking his beer).

BU: Buck walks out of view of the camera, through the kitchen, and there’s a dolly shot to the right to focus on Buck finding his place on the head of the kitchen island. He leans on the counter at this point. He does have a pretty open posture (identical to CO); Tommy sits with his hands/fingers folded together but he’s turned to Buck i.e. paying attention.

This is the position Buck has when he comes clear to Tommy about having dated Abby in the past; it’s also when his phone comes into the picture. Well. Pictures. Of Buck and Abby.

4. Seating 2.0

This is the longest section of analysis, and contains the part that makes me SCREAM but let’s start at the beginning. From the moment Buck sits down, the conversation turns serious in both scenes. This dialogue consists of mostly POV shots (which I will discuss next), and these medium shots that show Buck and Eddie, and Buck and Tommy.

CO: Buck sits down while Eddie says, “You and Tommy have the right idea, stay single.” This very clearly introduces a new section of the scene. Overall, the lighting of the loft is muted besides the yellow for visual interest and gay Eddie, thank you for your hard work Buddie colour theorists. Buck’s dining table is unlit and barely visible, so the space really takes a back seat and allows us to focus on Buck and Eddie. Please take note of the chair between them – this serves as a physical barrier, where someone is getting between them (a place for Marisol and Tommy, respectively).

BU: Here, the segway happens right after Buck’s come clear about being Abby’s ex 2.0. He sits down on the middle chair, but it’s quite obvious he’s shoved it away from Tommy. In fact, compared to CO, Buck is almost at the same distance from Tommy as he is from Eddie. There’s a barrier between Buck and Eddie, but there’s space between him and Tommy. This is emphasized by the lit dining table, which draws even more attention because of the white decorations: the loft is a space to be distracted by, focus on or even flee into.

Now. This is what kickstarted my obsession with these scenes, especially the coming out scene. The chair between them? Buck reaches out to Eddie, leans his arm onto it and in the process drawing attention to it. He actually leaves his arm there for an extended period, throughout several of the following shots, and only seems to pull back when he says he and Tommy were on a date.

The following shots – of Buck’s coming out and Eddie’s initial response – are back and forth POV shots. The first shot from medium distance, is this:

Do you see it. DO YOU SEE IT. Do you see what drives me crazy! Eddie is mirroring Buck’s earlier posture – also this is immediately after Buck says Tommy left him on the curb (i.e. Eddie realizes there’s no Tommy getting between them). Eddie’s not just opened up, he’s reaching out, extending his arm back onto that empty chair between them. And again, like Buck, he leaves it there for several shots. It’s still there when he tells Buck to call Tommy, although he briefly vaguely gestures to himself during the “He’ll love you! We all do!” It’s not clear when he takes his arm away; no shots show it and then he’s getting up.

This just. This drives me insane.

For comparison, Buck doesn’t reach out to Tommy during the BU scene. And, compare Tommy to Eddie:

5. POV shots

Okay, the section header is a bit of a misnomer because the scene consists mostly of dialogue and therefore has POV shots. Like I said, there’s also overlap between the POV shots and the wider establishing shots I used in section 4. The bulk of this part of the scene, however, shows a lot of over the shoulder close ups with quick POV switches. In both cases, this is where the subject at the heart of the scene is discussed.

Now, these differences are pretty small and they could be a consequence of these episodes having different directors. However, there’s zero doubt in my mind that Chad Lowe closely studied the CO scene for its sheer number of cinematographic parallels and therefore it might be entirely on purpose too YAY.

There’s some variation in the distance of these shots, but the most intimate ones look like this:

(Still not over that face he’s pulling here, dear Lord). Buck takes up most of the screen – his shoulders are visible, but the top of his head isn’t. I guess this is technically still an over the shoulder shot, but barely. Eddie is out of focus, just enough there to be a blurry ear. These shots are intimate. This is almost what Eddie is seeing – and actually these shots make it feel like they’re sitting a lot closer than they actually are.

"Until now.” Buck’s entire face (including hair) is in the shot, and we can see Tommy’s shirt. This is the closest/most intimate we get to see him (and Tommy, in reverse). For both sides, they’re very clear over the shoulder shots. Yes, this is intimate – but it is not intimate. A quarter to a third of the screen (esp as the conversation moves on) is dedicated to the other person. Buck is more visually interesting too. He has more colour in his face and his background is more clearly white than in CO, whereas Tommy blends in more with the brown coat rack background (shout-out to @sparklespiff for pointing out that difference while I was trying to figure out why Buck felt more noticeable, btw).

SIDENOTE: I know some posts have already been made about the pictures on Buck’s fridge and Eddie’s mantelpiece, like they seem thematically relevant (or perhaps not yet, but soon). Buck’s walls in general have more pictures on them in S8, which is evident both in Buck’s background and Tommy’s. I am nowhere near talented enough to identify them, but going by their general colour and composition, I believe all of Buck’s wall art pieces are that, art, not family photos.

6. Eddie and Tommy leaving

These scenes have some of the clearest parallels, and of course an incredibly clear difference in how Eddie and Tommy are leaving Buck.

CO: Eddie leaves not because of Buck (well, not technically), but because he has to go do something: “I gotta go talk to Marisol.” Buck is smiling while Eddie gets up and is on his way out. Of course, this is when Eddie stops, turns around, and Buck looks up. In fact, Eddie says “Come here” but he’s the one to walk up to Buck to give him a hug. Buck just stands up from the chair. During the hug, we get shots of both Eddie’s and Buck’s faces, and of course Eddie holding Buck’s shoulder. When Eddie leaves, we hear the door open and shut – the focus stays on Buck.

Again, when Tommy leaves, we only hear the door while the camera cuts to Buck. The show then picks up his response (with the same expression) during his arrival at Eddie’s, where Eddie lets him into his home.

BU: Of course, Tommy has nowhere he needs to go to (hello, return of the failed cinema date) – when he says “I should go” it is because of his conversation with Buck. There’s a medium wide shot of him getting up while Buck looks confused, looking like he’s about to reach out for Tommy – the first time during their conversation. The camera uses a slow dolly to the left, which is when Buck calls back Tommy to ask for clarification: “Did you just break up with me?” Tommy says, “Yeah, I guess I just did.” This has been pointed out before, but they’re clearly not sure. Tommy also says, “Believe me, I didn’t see it coming either.” (Was LFJ speaking from Tommy’s perspective in that interview?). That line is fascinating, actually, because only moments ago, he was incredibly adamant about being Buck’s first, not his last. This feels like a throwback to “Enjoy it while it lasts,” leaving them both overwhelmed/confused.

Look at how similar these shots are! Also, the reason I was adamant about calling these scenes mirrors and not parallels is because Buck and Tommy greet each other with a moment of physical affection (which, as I mentioned before, is incredibly short and barely visible). Eddie wouldn’t have ordinarily but feels it’s important to hug Buck to show him nothing has changed. In terms of meaning and cinematography, their interaction is a lot more substantial and reciprocal. They’re also making sure to leave on good terms – whereas Buck and Tommy meet on good terms, but part essentially as strangers. Buck and Tommy ending the scene like truly feels like an end. Buck and Eddie’s scene feels like a significant shift in their relationship, and for me part of that is a result of Eddie hugging Buck, and shaking up their routine.

7. Miscellany

Just some bits and bobs I couldn’t fit elsewhere in the analysis!

“I like him too. Just not the same way as you.” 7x05 was truly out there foreshadowing 8x06’s “I am not gay.” (I want to do a full 7x04 + 7x05 parallels post at some point, but that’s going to be a fuckload of work and possibly even larger than this post).

Like I pointed out, Buck and Eddie drink beer during their scene (which they often do during their conversations). Buck and Tommy are breaking up without accoutrements. Of course, we know Buck brings over beer to Eddie after the breakup. Because the scenes mirror each other so closely in every other aspect, it feels incredibly poignant: Eddie again fills a role in Buck’s life Tommy should have had. I also figured I’d check their fake brands, and they are different labels. I would assume Buck brought a new flavour, considering Eddie’s looks.

Speaking of continuity, Buck opening the door to Tommy in a sense mirrors Eddie opening the door to Buck at the end of 8x06. The key differences in their cinematography is that during BU, the establishing shot of the entire scene is of the closed door without a peephole shot. When Eddie opens the door, it follows his Risky Business tribute so the door takes up less presence, and even when it’s closed, Buck is clearly visible through the peephole.

Phones clearly are connected to (past) female love interests; Eddie is interacting with Marisol but it’s through text and impersonal – we don’t see the messages, we just hear Eddie complain. On the other hand, Buck is out of contact with Abby but he still treasures that relationship – otherwise he wouldn’t still have those pictures on his phone after 7 years. I guess that’s kind of cute? Idk, I never really liked Abby or how she treated Buck, but Tommy’s speech has turned me into an Abby defender lol

Like Buck, Maddie also stands at the head of the kitchen island during her conversation with Chimney. Chimney’s in the kitchen proper, though, and Maddie walks up to him so they can actually stand face to face and be happy about the new pregnancy together! (I genuinely missed that scene the first time I watched the episode, I was so caught up in the bones of it all SORRY MADNEY I LOVE YOU FOREVER).

8. Final thoughts

I mean. Are we really surprised? I’m not! Actually that’s a lie. I saw the similarities but was shocked at just how close these scenes are in full. However,I do think this scene in particular does a lot to show just how deliberate these parallels between S7 and S8 are (and between S8 and previous seasons in general – we’ve seen similar/near identical cinematography a couple of times now), and how deliberate the parallels are between Eddie and Tommy (who are literally taking up the same position in these two scenes).

And just. The fact it’s the coming out scene between Buck and Eddie, which was about opening up & telling the truth, and it doesn’t change anything (allegedly), versus Buck and Tommy, which is about opening up & telling the truth, which changes everything... it reaffirms how I feel about the coming out scene – this is a major moment of change, and that change is deeply entwined with their respective romantic relationships. AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!

#911 #911 meta #my meta #buddie #anti bucktommy #(mostly for posterity most of this is written to be tommy neutral)#im gonna get a phd in buddie some day #just you wait

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 11 months ago

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The More You Give ❧ (Part VIII)

Pairing | Eddie x shy!reader Warnings | 18+ only. Do not interact if you are underage. Roleplay (PrincessxWannabe Usurper lmao), sexual fantasies (including rockstarxgroupie), Eddie says some weird possessive stuff but reader likes it, oral (M receiving), P in V sex, dom!Eddie, sexual guilt as per, there’s aftercare. Word Count | 10,400 A/N | Nobody ask me about the timeline of this story, either in the fic or how long it takes me to write it. Taglist Previous Chapter

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The air is stuffy, despite the growing chill outside. The last days of Summer are at least a week gone now, and with Autumn comes heated stores. An ABBA song is playing on the main floor, filtering through enough for you to make out the tune. It’s the sort of thing your Mom plays in the car all the time, your mind following the words even though you can’t quite hear them over the buzzing ceiling lights.

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it. Slipping through my fingers-

The curtains pull back, the sound of metal over metal dragging you to full attention. May’s eyes are bright with excitement as she twirls, showing off how the strapless black dress fits around her waist and flares out at her hips.

“It’s perfect, right?” She says, smoothing it down only to twirl and puff the skirt up again. “Ooh, let me see with the jacket.”

You search through the bag at your feet for the cropped jacket she’d found earlier, then watch as she pulls it over her shoulders. She fluffs her hair and poses in the mirror at the end of the changing room hallway. “I mean it actually is perfect, right?”

“For sure, you can totally see who you are already.”

“Right? And then I can just backcomb my hair a little. My Mom’s gonna lend me her scarf. God knows what earrings I’ll wear, but I can work it out. Definitely can’t get anything new after this,” she finishes, turning her head and pulling at the tag on her back to double check the price. She pulls a face before tucking it away gingerly.

“That bad?”

“That bad. Even with 30% off.” May smooths her hands over the skirt again, turning once more to the mirror. Her smile lights up her pretty face. “But totally worth it.”

Once the dress is folded and wrapped in tissue paper by the woman at the counter, paid for with what seems like every spare penny in May’s purse, attention moves to your costume. “Okay, Fairy God Mother,” May says, linking her arm with yours. “Game plan. Where do we need to go?”

“I think just the costume store. I have a blue dress I can use. But I’d like some wings and a wand. Maybe a tiara, if I can afford it.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna look so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Tommy’s party?”

“The whole reason I’m dressing up is for Grace,” you reason, spotting the orange banner reading City of Fright, which appears in the same spot every year mid-September and vanishes November first.

Gone are ABBA’s lilting tones, replaced with stock Halloween music, the occasional creepy laugh and thunder clap. The entire front of the store is complete costumes, wrapped up in plastic and hanging on metal rods, but once you reach the shelves at the back, you are surrounded by an array of vampire teeth, witches hats and face paints.

“Eddie’s renting Theatre of Blood,” you tell her, not waiting for a reaction before launching into a prepared defence. “It sounds really good. It’s about an actor who takes revenge on his critics by murdering them like Shakespearian deaths - drowning in Malmsey wine, that kind of thing. He picked it cause, you know, he thought I’d like it.”

“Okay, but she’ll be in bed by what? Eight?” May asks, wandering around the table of paraphernalia as you start thumbing through fairy wings piled next to fake blood bags, searching for the right blue. “You could come after.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs softly. “Okay, I will say it’s kind of cute that he picked that. In a weird, not really that cute cause it’s a horror movie about gruesome murders, sort of way.”

You stifle a grin, chancing a look at her over the table. “That sounded…almost like a compliment?”

“Almost,” she agrees, walking back round to your side. Then, before you can answer, she has seized a shiny silver plastic tiara and is reaching out to place it gently on your hair. “There. Fit for a Princess.”

You shake your head, laughing. “What about a Fairy Godmother?”

May hums, grabbing a set of the net and wire wings and pulling them over her arms. “I’m the fairy now!” She declares, raising her chin and going up on tiptoes to whirl around the racks, wings shaking behind her. “Here to make all your Halloween costume dreams come true!”

Your heart warms, a giggle escaping as she peers curiously at the rubber masks and cat ears in character, mumbling about the strange habits of humans.

“Oh please, fairy godmother! I need a wand if I’m going to look anything like the real thing!”

“A wand, of course!” She cries dramatically. “No true fairy would be seen dead without their wand.” You watch her scurry on tip toe around until she comes to a display of wands of various colours, topped by stars and hearts, sequined tassels and glittery handles. She wiggles her fingers above them, picks out one with a simple silver star and travels back to you gracefully. You take it from her with a flourish. “There, and now your wings.” She helps you into your own pair, then turns and throws a graceful hand into the air. “Now, we fly!”

You flit about after her, laughing at her with every pause she takes to frown disapprovingly at fake scars and rubber spiders. She stops in front of a Tinkerbell costume, pointing with a surprised smile at the model on the package. “Hey, I know her!”

You snort a laugh and it sets her off, all attempts to stifle your laughter only making it worse. Your giggles are only beginning to settle when you feel the sudden awareness of being watched tickle the back of your neck.

“Uh, hi girls.”

Your heart drops. Caroline stands, a hand over her mouth, barely covering the smirk. “You look like you’re having…fun.”

Suddenly, the clear elastic of the wings is too tight around your shoulders. You can feel the crooked angle of the tiara atop your head, close to slipping off entirely. The wand in your hand isn’t silver now, just chipped paint on plastic.

Next to you, May is wrenching off her wings, laughing airily. “Just messing around,” she assures, folding them up and holding them with a tight fist at her hip. “You costume shopping?”

Caroline looks around at where you are. “I mean, obviously. Not for me, though, for Ethan,” she sighs. “You know boys, no interest in shopping.” She sets her stare on you, eyes scanning from the crooked tiara downwards. “Are you girls dressing up together?”

Your throat feels blocked, leaving you just to shake your head. May answers for you both. “No, no. Like I said, we’re just messing around. So we should probably put this stuff back.” She slides her wings into the space between some hanging masks before elbowing you into action. You’ve abandoned the tiara and wand and are in the process of sliding off the wings when she adds, coolly, “I’m actually going as Madonna.”

Caroline’s smirk falls, replaced at terrifying speed with a deep frown. “What? You can’t, I’m doing Madonna. I’ve got a veil and everything. Ethan’s going to be Sean Penn.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going as her in Desperately Seeking Susan, so it’ll be, like, totally different.”

“But I don’t think there should be two Madonna’s,” Caroline continues, almost sounding sympathetic. She crosses her arms, shrugging. “You’ll just have to go as somebody else.”

“Oh,” May says, shoulders falling. “Um, right. I get what you mean.”

You’re not in the habit of arguing with Caroline. It’s been easier, historically, not to contradict her or answer back. But you can feel May deflating beside you, and it tumbles out. “But you won’t look similar or anything, they’re completely different costumes.”

“They’re not though.” She answers with finality. “They’re both Madonna, and the last thing we want is comparisons, right? People talking about who wears it better all night?”

May nods. “You’re right. Totally. I’ll think of something else. No worries.”

“But May, your dress! You can’t return it now, it was on sale!”

“It’s fine,” May snaps before smiling close mouthed at Caroline. “I can find something else to wear, no issue.”

“You could be fairies together!” Caroline says. “I bet the guys at Tommy’s party would love that.”

“No, no, like I said, we were just messing around,” May says. “Not really my thing. And anyway, she’s not coming on Friday.”

“Oh no!” Caroline pushes her bottom lip out into a pout. “But I haven’t seen you outside of school in ages!”

“I’m babysitting,” you explain, clutching your removed wings in your fists.

“Oh sure you are, not spending the night with your boyfriend. We hardly see you anymore, I feel like there must be so much detail we’ve all been missing out on. You’ll have to come on the next girls trip, right May? So we can hear all about you and…Eddie.”

Your heart pounds as May nods. “Yeah,” she answers. “Eddie can’t have all your time.”

“Perfect. Well, let me know what you end up doing, May! See you later, girls!”

She flounces away, and May hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe she saw me doing that.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” She says, throwing her hands up. Her eyes shine with frustrated tears. “It’s not okay! Not for me, anyway. It’s different for you, people already think you’re weird.”

You blink at your friend. Then you look down at the speckled linoleum floor, watch the spots fuzz and blend into each other as the lump in your throat builds. Before five seconds have passed, her arms appear at your sides, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that.”

But you know that she did. You know that’s exactly what she thinks.

For the moment you have to think about what you say now, you imagine calling her out on this. Pushing her away and telling her that she doesn’t have to spend any more time with you, given you embarrass her so much. You’d buy your fairy wings and your crown, walk out with your head held high.

Maybe she’d call after you, apologise again, say that losing you isn’t worth impressing Caroline or sitting at the cheerleader table.

But maybe any pain she’d feel at the prospect of your friendship ending would only bring out her anger. Maybe she’d swear to never speak to you again.

If you were somebody else, someone who didn’t love May, maybe you’d take that risk. But you are you, and you’ve loved May since you were five. To you, the only thing worse than feeling hurt yourself is the thought of hurting her back.

So you shake your head at her shoulder, blink away tears and squeeze her tight in your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, pulling away from her collar that smells the way being seven smelled. You release her, and in turn her arms fall from you. “I get it, you’re just stressed.”

“I know! I don’t know what I’m going to do about my costume!”

Your heart pangs. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s trying to rise back up. “Well, at least the dress is black,” you say, sniffing quick and quiet. You drag your hands over your eyes, clearing away the wetness clinging to your bottom lashes. Stop it, you think. Stop crying. “Let’s return the jacket, yeah? Then you’ll have money for a witch hat or something.”

May nods slowly as she thinks it through. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works.” She gives you a relieved smile. “God, what would I do without you? Let’s go.”

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“Well, I didn’t think I wanted glasses because Katie has glasses,” Grace explains, holding her plastic pumpkin, now close to overflowing with candy, in both hands at her stomach. She looks at you with a look too knowing for a seven year old, then continues. “Katie is a tattle tale.”

“I see,” you nod.

“But I want ones like Jessica’s!” She cries, arms extending with the weight of her treasure trove before she pulls it back up. “They go dark in the sun!”

“It’s not the same,” she whines. “And then when we went to the optom- uhm.”

“But you already have sunglasses,” you reason, picturing the little red plastic pair you’ve had to run back for when out on walks many times. Grace hefts the pumpkin again and you give in, lifting the bag from her grasp and burying your wand in with the candy. You soften when she grabs your hand with a deep sigh.

“The optometrist?”

“Yeah, when we went to see him, he said my eyes were perfect!”

“Well, that’s good.”

“No!” She yells, dramatically, pulling on your arm with her whole weight until you have to heave yourself back up. You stifle a giggle at her distraught expression. “Because now I’ll never get glasses, and everybody has them.”

“Well, first of all, I’m sure not everybody has them,” you say, smiling down at her grumpy face. “And secondly, you shouldn’t just want something like glasses because other people have them, even if it was everybody else. You can’t just live your life just trying to be like everyone around you.”

“I know,” she mumbles. Then, catching your raised eyebrow, “I know!”

You round the corner to her street, and by the time you’re approaching her house, she’s moved comfortably on to the next topic of her candy eating schedule for the next three days. “Because Jessica saves all her Skittles for last,” Grace explains, her position now firmly against being anything like Jessica. “Which is stupid, because you should have the best candy first.”

“Mm? Why’s that?”

Grace looks at you with a frown. “Because the best comes first,” she tells you, with the tone of somebody kindly trying to hold in their frustration with an imbecile.

“Of course, silly of me to ask. Hi, Mrs. Miller!”

Grace’s Mom was clearly waiting for you near the front door, already out and standing on the front steps as you walk up the front path. Grace holds her hands out to take her bucket back, launching forward when she’s got ahold of it. “Mom! Look at all my candy!”

“Whoa! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that!” Her Mom says, eyes comically wide. “Think you need someone to help you out, hm?”

Grace shrieks indignantly, running under her Mom’s arm inside and clambering up the stairs out of sight without a bye nor leave for you.

“Everything went okay?” Her Mom asks, smiling when you give her your usual answer, all fine. “Will you be okay getting home? I can get her back down if you need a ride.”

“Oh, um,” you check either side of the street, feeling suddenly warmed inside at the sight of Eddie’s van parked at the end of the road. Now that you’re concentrating on it, you’re sure you can hear the music blasting behind glass. “No, it’s okay. That’s my boyfriend.”

“Ah, Eddie.” She smiles, then smacks her teeth as she, too, registers his music. “Maybe tell him to keep it down next time? I don’t mind but I already get monthly phone calls from Mrs O’Hara about the sound of the lawnmower.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll do that,”

“Okay,” she says, calling after you as you start up a fast pace towards Eddie. “You have a good night!”

You pull your cardigan sleeves down over your hands to fight the chill as you move, smiling when you can properly make out Eddie sitting in the front seat. He had a special D&D night planned when he dropped you off at Grace’s earlier. While your costume sat folded in your bag all day, he’d gone to school dressed all in black, even his white Reeboks swapped out for a pair of knockoff doc martens he’d launched himself towards when he caught sight of them at the thrift store. They’d fit him just fine with three pairs of socks.

This morning, sitting in his van, he’d barely managed to control his excited twitches while you lined his eyes with a cheap black pencil from the drugstore. Your work is a little smudged now, but on him, it looks even better than before. Which makes sense, you think. Eddie doesn’t suit neat lines.

“Hi Princess!” He calls, turning the music down enough that his excitement is just audible through the glass as you approach.

“Not a Princess,” you remind him as you climb in, turning your back to shake your shoulders and display the blue net wings. “A Fairy God Mother.” You settle back into the seat, shivering away the chill that had gooseflesh rising over your body. Eddie rubs your arm over your cardigan, and you take the opportunity to grab his hand. As much as you want to warm your cold fingers, it’s mainly just to touch him. “How was the game?”

His grin turns sharp as he leans back in his chair, chin tilted up. “So fucking good. I have them right where I want them. I thought for a second Lucas had me worked out. He hesitated when they were getting to the caves, but then he just went along with it. I can’t wait till next week.” He lets go of your hand long enough to start up the van before returning his open palm to the space between you for you to take hold of him again. “How is Princess Grace?”

“Increasingly despotic. She executed like five of her toys before we went out trick or treating.”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “What for?”

“Well, her not-so-wise Fairy God Mother,” you start, gesturing to yourself. “Made the mistake of telling her about royal food tasters? Now there’s a poisoning attempt every few days.”

“Very active imagination, this girl. Violent, but active.”

“Mm, I think most girls play that way. When I was little- Well, me and May, we’d act like witches sometimes? And make potions out of mud and sticks and stuff. And talk about who we would curse.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And which poor soul had earned this spite, pray tell?”

“Did you ever have Mr Gilmour?”

“Oh, Gilmour, yeah, I fuckin' hated that guy!” Eddie yells. His eyebrows furrow. “I threw up during gym in seventh grade and the sadistic prick made me finish running a mile.”

“Yeah, I forgot about that till now.” His brows stay taught for a second longer, then he shakes his head a little, tapping his fingers along your knuckles. “Too bad I didn’t have you around then, coulda cursed him for me a little earlier.”

“Oh, Eddie, that’s horrible.”

“I would have,” you promise. “But you were telling me about the game. Did you get Dustin with the, um, venom troll?”

“Not yet. We didn’t get as far as I’d have wanted before they had to go. I mean, what fourteen year old has a curfew? I didn’t, and I turned out alright. But I’ll get him next week. I can’t wait to see his face - that little punk thinks he’s so smart, but he is pre-dictable.”

Eddie continues describing the campaign, the traps he’s set for them that he’s sure they’ll run into, the whole drive to his place, excited and animated as he usually is on the rare occasion you get to see him after Hellfire, wound up from the events of the day. He only slows down when you’re settled on his couch. Sneakers left at the door, wings, tiara, and wand abandoned on the kitchen table, wrapped up in his arms as the opening titles of Theatre of Blood play.

Eddie’s so warm, and unusually still when you sit with him like this. Being cuddled up to him puts you in mind of your aunt’s black cat. She spends the first couple hours of every visit pretending that she isn’t interested in being anywhere near you. Then, after letting her sniff your hand, rubbing gently between her ears, she darts up on your lap, her soft heat spreading through you.

Eddie might not admit it, at least not verbally, but he likes being petted the same way. You’ve seen his eyes flutter when you play with his hair, heard the gentle sighs he lets out when you touch his cheek. Now, leaning into his chest, rubbing lazily at his torso, you can feel the way his body relaxes into the couch under your touch. It makes you smile at the TV even as Vincent Price swears revenge on all his critics.

You turn your head just a little, trying to be subtle as much as possible so you can look at him properly. Eddie’s eyes, which in sunlight can be bright as copper, are dark and focused in the electric light of the TV. The light freckles that dotted the tops of his cheeks and nose during Summer have faded from the cloudy days and early sunsets, leaving only his soft pale skin. His lips, as always, are soft looking and pink, still shiny from the last time his tongue peeked out, set in a near constant subtle pout.

You sigh gently, and in turn breathe in the remnants of smoke and laundry detergent from his shirt, the fading spice of his drugstore aftershave.

“You know I picked this movie out special,” he says, only his eyes moving to fix you with a mockingly suspicious expression. “Vincent’s a master.”

You’re surprised to find you’re not ashamed at having been caught. “M’just looking at you.”

“Therein lies the problem, sweet thing. One minute you’re just looking. Next thing I know my head’s trapped between your thighs.” This time he leans in properly. “Wicked temptress.” He whispers it, his breath warming your face.

You think he’ll kiss you then, but instead he relaxes back into the couch with a sigh. “M’just lucky you weren’t dressed up all day.” His hand tugs at the hem of your skirt, then spreads out just above your knee. “I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else. It’s a miracle I even got the movie playing instead of trying to touch you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you answer, trying not to sound too eager.

“I bet,” he says, eyes shining. Then his face turns serious, palm coming to his heart. “But Eddie the Chivalrous would never touch a Princess without properly wooing her first.” His eyes scan over your face quickly. “I guess that means we need to finish the movie.”

He’s teasing you. He wants to push, see how much he can get you to say, if you’ll ask him outright to just touch you the way you want. Warring feelings compete to decide what you do next. Maybe months ago, when you first started dating Eddie, you would have pressed your thighs together and settled in to finish the film. A part of you still calls for that, screams that whatever you say won’t be right.

You stare at Eddie now. His eyes still lined dark, the smirk he’s trying to hide. Your toes curl just looking at him, and the thought escapes naturally. “You don’t look like Eddie the Chivalrous, right now.”

Eddie blinks slowly. His head tilts. “No? Who do I look like, then?”

Now, something like shame creeps back in, and you wish you’d just settled down to watch the movie.

You haven’t ever put a name to it before. In your fantasies, the ones that appear unprompted when you’re alone in your bed and you haven’t been able to touch him in a couple days, Eddie’s always Eddie, but sometimes just a little different.

Maybe Eddie the Chivalrous is the right name for how you first thought about him like that, calling you Princess as usual but meaning it. You thought about him as your knight and guard, sworn to protect you, breaking all the rules by laying you down and treating you gently, better than any lord or Prince you could be promised to.

Then you’d think about his laugh, the one that comes out when you moan a little loud, or lose your patience and try to direct his hands or his tongue to where you need him. The mocking gasp and teasing tone that often comes along with it, you want it bad, huh, Princess? You think about an Eddie who’s like that all the time, teasingly mean with you, dark and dangerous to everyone else, finding you alone in your soft bed, holding your hands above your head and- and-

People already think you’re weird.

You give in to the sudden hot shame, pressing your face to Eddie’s chest lest he read your expression so perfectly that he works it all out. You whisper into his shirt, more to yourself than him. “I’m so weird.”

“Well, s’a good thing you’re with me then, mm?” He says, big hand moving to stroke the back of your neck. “Cause if you got a fantasy, like, something you think about when I’m not around. You know I won’t judge you for it, right?”

“I know.” It comes out muffled against his shirt but it’s certain. It’s instinctual, now. You’re as sure that you don’t need to worry about Eddie judging you as you are that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. More and more, you find yourself talking to him the way you talk to yourself in your head. Easy and free, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this is different. “It’s just- It’s like-” You sigh, searching for the words that won’t come.

He hums, still rubbing your neck. “Maybe I could- I mean, do you…wanna hear one ‘a mine?” You emerge from your hiding place, leaning back into his hand to gauge how serious he is. Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the sides at having coaxed you into looking at him again. “Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoes. Eddie searches his side for the remote first, pausing Vincent in the middle of another monologue. “Okay. Well, yeah, sometimes I think about- Wait no, gotta set the scene. I’ve just played maybe the best show of my life. Nothing too big,” he continues, giving you a serious look. “I’m not a sell out. We’re talking the smaller arenas, you know? Anyway, after, when I get backstage, feeling like hot shit, there’s this girl. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. And she’s wearing the band’s shirt.”

“And she’s a little shy. Can barely look me in the eye-” He catches you just as your gaze moves to his collar, pulling you back to staring, helpless, into his dark eyes. Eddie takes your hand from where it was playing with the hem of his shirt, weaving your fingers together. “She’s kinda fidgety, too.”

You swallow. “Me?”

“You, sweet thing. S’always you.” You bite the gum behind your bottom lip, holding back from grinning too much. You squirm a little under his gaze, waiting for him to speak again. “And you tell me you’ve been waiting for me,” Eddie says, voice smooth and quiet. “You tell me you’re my biggest fan. And you can’t quite say everything you wanna say, but it doesn’t matter, cause I’ve got you worked out. So I get real close,” he says, his face disappearing as his mouth moves towards your ear, “and I ask if you want me to touch you?”

“And I do,” you continue for him, shivering again at the little groan Eddie lets escape from his throat.

“Mm hm, real bad.” His eyes reappear, scanning over each part of your face. “So bad you wanna earn it. Wanna show me I was right to pick you and not some other girl. You get on your knees for me.” Eddie licks his lips quick. “And I know you’re kinda inexperienced, but it’s good, the best I’ve ever had. You know why?” You shake your head, gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth. You watch his lips move around his words. “Cause you’re so fucking grateful for it.”

“Mm. And when I decide you’ve earned it, I lay you back on a couch somewhere. A green room or a tour bus or something. And I show you you were right to wait for me.” You shiver. It’s a delicious thrill to picture Eddie that way, completely new to you, a total stranger, yet so sure of what he can take. “And after that?” He says, giving the back of your neck a squeeze. “I keep you.”

“Eddie.” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, wishing he would touch you there now, or even put you on your knees the way he wants so you could show him you’re as grateful for him here and now as you are in his fantasy.

The fantasy fades when Eddie kisses you. With the press of his lips, the taste of Dr Pepper on his tongue, he’s your Eddie again, familiar and perfect. You’re still floating back to Earth when he pulls away. “Your turn.”

You flinch, crashing to the ground instead. “What?”

“You like Latin, right? It’s quid pro quo, sweetheart. I show you mine, you show me yours. Tit for tat. That was the deal.”

“It was implied.” Eddie answers breezily. Then, with his thumb rubbing gently at the back of your hand. “C’mon. Try? You liked mine, right?” You give a barely noticeable nod, but Eddie catches it. “Yeah. And I bet I’ll like yours.”

“There was no deal!”

“I can’t- I don’t have it all, like, thought out the way you do.”

“Well, I’m a storyteller by trade,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. “All my sex fantasies have lore. And we can build on yours, if it needs it.Alright. I’m not Eddie the Chivalrous right now. Who am I?” He tilts his chin to where you have started playing with his rings, twisting each round his fingers in turn. “Apart from Eddie the Stress Toy.”

“It’s not- You’re just-” You swallow, rubbing your thumb over the metal skull sitting where a wedding ring would go. “You’re just somebody…somebody I shouldn’t want.”

“Intriguing. And you are?” Your face flames. You mumble it, barely opening your lips, and Eddie squints. “Mm?”

You sigh. “Princess.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, ducking his head to make sure you see his face, reassuringly still smiling. “Okay. I can work with this. Maybe I'm…Eddie the Banished. I tried to take power for myself by force but I failed.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses the thin skin at your wrist. “And I’ve returned, because I realised I don’t need to win a battle. I just have to…take the Princess?”

You clench around nothing. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, yeah. C’mon, sweet thing.”

Your gaze follows him as he stands. “You want- Right now?”

“Why not? We’re all dressed up. The time is now.” Eddie pauses his excitement when he registers the fact you’re still sitting. “If…if you want.”

“I do,” you breathe. “But I can’t, y’know, talk like you.” You just know Eddie already has some dialogue thought up, things he can say as the character he’s just come up with that will make you dizzy. “I’ll get stuck.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” Eddie says, squatting down in front of you, hands spread out on your knees. “I don’t mind taking the lead. Besides, the Princess would be kinda nervous anyway, right? If you’re not supposed to want me. The outlaw, the traitor. You’ve been told about all the terrible things I’ve done, what I tried to do for power. Now you feel guilty about what you really want from me. And I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been on the run, living rough- You know, this is good stuff,” he says, interrupting himself and looking round. “You got a pen? I should maybe write some of this down- No. After, sorry.” He gives you a sheepish grin, then leans in close. “Don’t think there’s much chance I’ll forget this, anyway.”

He stands then, hand extended to you with wiggling fingers for you to take and let him guide you through to his room. Eddie hums when his door is closed, shutting out the world beyond the frame. “Shoulda done this at yours,” he says, sitting you down on the mattress. “In your pretty Princess bed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say breathlessly, meaning it entirely. All that matters is it’s him. He’s the only person you could do something like this with.

“Okay, I need a little more. You shouldn’t want me, I’m…morally grey, let’s say. Chaotic neutral. Am I mean?”

“Kinda,” you answer. “You’re…selfish?”

“Selfish,” he repeats.

“Just like, y’know. It’s like-” Eddie’s hands spread at the sides of your thighs, teasing the skin at the hem of your skirt. You want them everywhere. “You know I want you. That I’ll…do things for you. And you take advantage. ”

There’s a pause. “I think I’m following. Things somebody like you shouldn’t do?” You nod quickly, cheeks burning as you watch him work it out. “You wanna get your mouth on me, Princess?”

You fight the instinct to hide, the urge to look away, the voice telling you to deny everything, take it back. Instead, you start playing with the hem of his shirt again, soft cotton between your fingers.

“Mm hm.”

“Shit. Okay. Anything-” His voice cracks a touch, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anything else?”

“It’s not like- Even though you’re mean, you still- With me, you feel-” Now you do have to look away, staring at where your fingers are fiddling with the black fabric. He can read you too well, and you don’t want him to see exactly what you want from him. “You-”

You love me.

“I feel…how I feel about you?” He suggests.

You bite the gum behind your lip to stop yourself asking exactly what that means. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Hard to pretend anything else.” Eddie leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, long enough that your whole body relaxes into it, your mind settling on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. When he pulls away, it’s easy to answer his question. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie stands to full height, his shoulders back. He tilts his head, expression shifting. From your Eddie, with chestnut eyes and his perfect, dimpled smile, to a smirking man with a dark gaze excited to ruin you.

“I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he says, voice smooth and confident. A thrilled shiver runs up your spine. “Knew I’d find you eventually, but I could only hope I’d find you like this. All alone.” He takes a step towards you. “Unprotected-”

“Eddie,” you whisper.

Softness peaks through with raised eyebrows. “Good?” You nod quickly, and it disappears again as he slinks closer towards you. “I missed you, while I was away,” he tells you, soft and teasing. “Did you miss me?”

“I-” You swallow. You’re used to repeating back what Eddie says to you, in times like this, letting him guide you through everything he wants to hear from you. But you don’t want to just watch him do this for you. “No.”

Eddie blinks, surprised, then he puts on a mockingly hurt face, hand over his heart. “No? You wound me, Princess.” That same hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb strokes gently under your eye and you can’t help but lean into him. “Or you would, if I believed you.” He tilts your head up to see him properly, standing over you. “You think I didn’t see the way you’d look at me, before I left?”

Your fingers twitch to reach out and brush at the ends of his hair as it falls towards you, but you keep them at your sides on the bed, curling into the sheets. “You didn’t leave, you-”

“Left, banished, driven out; it all comes to the same end, mm?” His eyes scan your face, down your dress and back up. “That’s you and me, Princess. Here, alone together. You gonna pretend you never wanted that?”

His thumb, callused and warm, keeps rubbing over your cheek. “I can’t want it”

“No, you can,” he presses. Eddie, your Eddie, would sit with you now, squat in front of you to talk to you at the same level. Now, his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to remind you that he could stop you looking away if you tried. “Cause I’ve had time to think about it.”

“While you were hiding in the woods?”

“While I was regrouping,” he corrects. “I realised something. I went about it all wrong.” he tells you. “It was foolish of me to try and use force to get what I want. Not when you were right here. Waiting for me.”

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, then presses inside to the tip of your tongue.

“If I make you mine, everything else follows. That’s right, isn’t it?” He nods slowly until you copy him. “The throne, power, vengeance on everyone who tried to hold me back. And you, in my bed every night. All day if I wanted.” He pulls at your lip again as he steals his thumb back, leaning in until his breath is warm against your cheeks. “That sounds nice. Doesn't it, Princess?” You glance at his lips, wanting him to kiss you now, to take it from you. Eddie shakes his head, drawing your gaze back to his. “I wanna hear you say it. You wanted me to touch you, just like this, and more, didn’t you? Wanted me to show you how to make me happy?”

You can feel your heartbeat heavy in your chest, your breath coming quicker. Only Eddie could do this, have you convinced of a story which before tonight only existed half formed in the fantasies of your bedroom. You can feel the internal conflict as if it really is your duty to say no, and your heart’s only desire to give your next answer.

“Yes, Eddie.”

He gives you a kiss that’s half teeth, dragging at your bottom lip. Even this is different. You’re used to the gentle start, feeling him smile on your mouth. He breathes deep through his nose, pulls from you so suddenly that you make to follow him until he presses a hand to your shoulder.

“And I will. Get on the floor.” Eddie steps back, and it doesn’t even occur to argue with him now. You slide off the mattress easily, knees falling to the carpet without looking away from him. There’s a pause. He speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want an invisible audience to hear. “You comfy? You want the pillow?”

“No,” you answer, heart aching. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

You watch the way he steels his face again, looking at you on your knees in front of him like that’s where you’re meant to be. His hands work at his belt, a soft hiss escaping when he presses his palm down the front of his pants. His head tilts back, displaying his thick neck, the rising pinkness across his pale throat, and he breathes a laugh. “Now, Princess- Wait!” You jump at the suddenness of Eddie pulling his hand from his pants only to clasp them at his waist as he half-jogs towards the door. “Just a second. Don’t move!”

Eddie disappears through the door, mumbling to himself. His words are faint but it’s clear enough that he is looking for something. You close your eyes, focusing on his voice, however fuzzy. You never thought you could have something like this. Someone like Eddie. Someone safe. So safe that you can abandon yourself to fulfilling a silly fantasy thought up under the covers of your bed.

Something catches your hair and you open your eyes to find him standing over you again. The tip of his tongue curls over his top lip as he places the plastic silver tiara just so on your head. When it’s as he wants it, his teeth show with his smile. “Perfect,” he says, pressing two fingers to your chin and turning your head each way. “My Princess, mm? I’m going to show you what it is to be mine.”

Eddie reaches into his pants to pull himself free. His hand drags over the shaft, quick and dirty, just for a moment’s relief if the clench of his jaw the second he stops is any indicator.

You think you know what to do now, tipping your chin, opening your mouth, ready to take him. Only he angles his head away from your tongue. You peer up at him in confusion, watch the way his excitement plays out on his face. “C’mere, Princess.”

Cupping your cheek with his spare hand, he guides you to the base of his cock, where he is softest. Your lips graze the fuzzy skin of his balls and Eddie makes a noise that has you squirming for the lightest touch between your legs. You kiss delicately, blinking up at him, watching his thumb rub over the head of his cock, catching wetness to ease the slow movement of his hand. He taps his fingers on your cheek gently. “Open up. Want your tongue.”

Your toes curl. You want to taste him here, aching at the smell of him; like his neck at the end of the day in Summer, his sweat and musk, fading body wash. You want to make Eddie feel good so badly, you think you might do whatever he asks as long as he looks at you the way he is now.

You reach for him, palm settling on his knee where denim meets exposed skin. Opening your mouth, you lick quickly at the seam of his balls, taste salt on soft skin. He groans, fingers flexing around your jaw. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yes,” Eddie bites out when you lick broad and wet up to the base of his cock, thinking of his wide tongue drawing upwards from your pussy to your clit. “Fuck, yes.”

He draws you back, smiling down at you. It makes your face burn, but you struggle between looking him in the eyes and staring at his cock. His balls are pink and wet from your attention, his hand moves steadily over his length, drawing folds of skin over his thick head and back.

“Want you to suck on them a little,” he tells you. The pause he leaves gives a moment for you to squeeze at his knee, as if presenting your open mouth wouldn’t be enough to show your agreement. He drags the weight of his balls over your chin to your wet tongue, listing off curses when your lips close just enough to suck gently. Eddie’s hand moves faster over his length, the curve of his fingers brushing your forehead with each tug.

Eddie’s groans are all that matter now. His sack is heavy, falling past your lips the wider you open your mouth. “So fuckin’ full cause of you,” Eddie bites. You hum, closing your eyes, his hips stutter. First towards the warmth of your mouth and then away entirely, replacing his sack with the head of his cock tapping against your tongue.

Eddie gasps when you lap at his leaking tip. “Can I-” He pauses, rephrases, puts on the right tone. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess.”

He watches you carefully, gives you time to tell him no. You squeeze his knee once more, gaze moving from his dark eyes to his cock. You press a quick kiss to the swollen head, a darker pink than the rest of him where it peeks through folds of skin, then let him press your head back against the mattress.

Eddie’s cock glides smoothly over your tongue to the top of your throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, rolling his hips. “M’starting to think this is what you wanted the whole time.” He eases further, just past the entrance of your throat. It’s easier, like this. You are more open to him with your head tilted back this way. He holds himself in the warmth of your mouth, watching you blinking back tears to try and keep him clear in your gaze. Finally your throat protests, and Eddie draws back till you can suck at his head, the exposed length of his cock shining with your spit. You gaze at him, wanting him to be proud of you for taking him deeper than you have before. He makes a soft encouraging noise, but Eddie like this won’t give you the validation you want so easily. “Teased me for so long. I think I deserve to take what I want, now.”

Eddie thrusts slowly at first, easing you in despite his words. The hand that was on your cheek now stroking at your heated forehead.

You like it like this.

You liked having him in your mouth the first time, and every time after that. Like watching him shake, hearing him groan and whine, and knowing that you’re the one making him like that. You like focusing on him; lick here, nip there, let him feel you moan around him. Now, you don’t even have to think about how best to please him. You can focus on your breathing, taking air in through your nose when he pulls back enough. And on Eddie and how he looks as he takes his pleasure from you.

Eddie’s so beautiful. His dark hair frizzes around his face, eyes crinkling at the sides when he closes them and groans into the air. His neck is pink, a pretty blush crawling up to his cheeks as his thrusts speed up. “We’re gonna do this all the time, Princess, you hear me?” He grits, fingers curling into the sheets at the side of your head. You moan in answer, pleased when it makes his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip dipping deep enough past the entrance of your throat that you can’t blink away the wetness that springs to your eyes. “You’re gonna be in my bed all the time, maybe I’ll tie you up, mm?” He presses deep again, then holds steady. When the tears collected at the corners of your eyes start to fall, he wipes them away before they can reach the apples of your cheeks. “Keep you here, just for me. Don’t need to see or talk to anyone else ever again.”

If your head weren’t fuzzy, you’d start questioning why that makes you ache. Eddie withdraws his cock from the top of your throat and you only take a second to gasp in the air you need before following him, reaching up to touch the inches of his cock your mouth still can’t quite cover. Eddie laughs through a moan at the feeling of you jerking his cock into your mouth, licking wet at the end of him. “You want that, huh? Hey-” He drags you away from his cock, leaving you with wet, pleading eyes looking up at him. “You want that?” Your mouth opens, then closes. Your hips roll, seeking friction you can’t get while kneeling like this. Eddie’s eyes flick down, lips turning up at the sight. “Get on the bed for me, mm?”

Eddie reaches a hand out to help you sit up on his mattress. Then he pulls his shirt off over the back of his head, exposing all the soft pale skin and dark ink of his torso. You pull your dress up too, knocking your tiara in the process. When the dress is off entirely, Eddie’s there in an instant to fix it for you, his fingers caressing your cheek when he’s done. “Hey, uh. Am I doing alright? Is this the sort of thing you imagined?”

“This is better,” you tell him earnestly, loving how pleased he looks. You’re learning that this, the pleasure gained from praise, is something you and Eddie share. You love it when Eddie calls you good, or smart, or sweet. When he tells you that you’re good at something he’s teaching you. In turn, Eddie likes it when you tell him how good he makes you feel, that he’s doing everything right, that he’s looking after you exactly how you want it.

He kisses you, and it’s softer this time until he bites gently at your bottom lip as he’s pulling away. “C’mon and lie down, Princess,” he says, guiding you to lay down. You press your legs together, knees bent and feet flat to the mattress as Eddie climbs up after you. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, making you giggle softly as he passes ticklish spots. It relaxes you enough to let him guide your legs open and back, allowing him closer. Eddie tilts his head, thumbing the little blue bow at the waistband of your panties. “You really want me to tie you up?”

Without thinking, you glance quickly at the handcuffs hanging from his door. You feel the beat of your heart against your chest, wondering if you’re ready for that, knowing really that you’re not. Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to him. He kisses your knee. “Not tonight, Princess.” He leans in, whispers. “And only ever if you really want, okay?”

“I know, Eddie,” you answer. And you do. You know that as much as Eddie is teaching you, seemingly leading you along to each new experience, in truth he’s making sure you set the pace.

“Take this off for me,” he says, pulling at the strap of your bra. You reach underneath your back to unhook it, shimmying it off your arms and letting it drop to his floor. Once you’re settled, he takes both your hands in his, pulling them up over your head. You can’t help but giggle, feeling both nervous and giddy. “Hold onto the headboard?” You follow the instruction, wrapping your fingers around one of the wooden slats. Stretched like this, chest presented to him, you feel open and exposed, your nipples tightening from the cold air and from Eddie’s attention. “Don’t let go, mm?”

He leans down, kissing from the base of your neck down the skin between your breasts, his hair dragging behind him, tickling the sensitive skin. He leaves a wet mark on the curve of your left breast, the sting of his teeth quickly soothed by his tongue. When he takes the tight bud of your nipple between his lips, your whole body tenses. It’s a test of your submission, if you can last with only your memory of what it feels like to tangle your fingers in his hair. If you can bear not to tug at it when he flicks his tongue like that.

Your hands tighten around the wood, hips tilting to find his cock where he tucked it back in his boxers, still hard and throbbing between your legs. The friction, however light, against where you have been waiting for him all evening, is too good to give up, and you keep searching for his hardness to rub against.

Eddie releases your breasts with a grin. “You want it bad, huh, Princess?”

You whine, melting when he presses his hips forward to give you more delicious friction along your pussy. He huffs a laugh, sitting up and quickly reaching out for the pack of Trojans on his bedside. You watch him kneel between your legs, the way he fists his cock while he tears at the foil square with his teeth, his desperation to roll the condom over his length. Eddie shuffles forward on his knees and presses his wide hands to the back of your thighs. He gently guides your legs back, hitching your hips up for better access to your pussy, wet and swollen under his gaze.

“Wanted this for so long, Princess,” he says. “You’ve been waiting too, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie. Been waiting so long.” You nearly cry from relief when his cock latches at your entrance, then from despair when he stills instead of filling you. The headboard creaks from your squirming. “Please,” you whisper, sounding pathetic in a way that would embarrass you if you weren’t aching from the emptiness.

Eddie stretches you perfectly as he presses inside your slick cunt. The tease of pain feels good now that your body recognises what it means, where Eddie filling you up leads. “Good?” He asks, once he’s deep enough inside that the curls of hair above his cock are teasing your clit.

You mean to answer properly, but the intention is overtaken by the need for him to move. Waiting for him, your fingers tighten around the wood so much you swear there will be marks from your nails. “Eddie.” It comes out whinier than you intended, but he certainly doesn’t mind.

“Eddie,” he mimics breathily, his teeth showing as the heat of pleasant humiliation crawls up your spine. He doesn’t keep you waiting any longer, snapping his hips to draw back and press deep again through your clenching cunt.

You’ve been under him every time, but like this you feel helpless. Hands voluntarily useless, body tilted up and legs opened by his hands, your body presented to him and positioned perfectly for him to set the pace. It feels right for this - you know now what the romance novels you hide under your bed mean when the heroine is taken.

Your toes curl when Eddie’s hips roll just right, the heavy head of his cock hitting the end of you. When he reaches between you to press a thumb to your clit and rub in tight circles, your body tilts, hips trying to chase the pleasure, only for Eddie to press you back down to where he wants you.

“I like it,” you answer. “I like it, Eddie.”

“You like it, like this, hm?” Eddie asks. You blink at him slowly, wondering if it’s your boyfriend or Eddie the Banished asking. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, hair shaking. “Knew you would. Pretty Princess just needed to be fucked right, mm?” You shudder, tightening around his cock enough that he gasps, “fuckfuckfuck. S’good. It’s so good, honey.”

You breathe a laugh. “Princess, to you.”

“My apologies,” he says, snapping his hips to land heavy against the spot at the back of your pussy. You gasp, legs kicking out against his grip involuntarily only for him to tighten his grip and push them back to where he wants them. You can hear how wet you are, the sound of him moving inside you as loud as the bed springs, as loud as your moans. “Mine now, aren’t you, Princess?”

You nod easily. “Yes.”

“Gonna give me everything I want from now on, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes-”

“Made it so easy for me. Should have just done this in the beginning, just taken you for myself.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back as his hips speed up. “Fuck, I can’t- Can’t get enough of that.” When he looks back to you, the detached, mocking look is gone. He’s all intensity and warmth, your Eddie again. Your whole body tightens. “Tells me everything I need to know when you say my name like that.” He gives you a mean thrust, tongue peeking out as he watches where you’re connected, the slick coating his cock, before his gaze returns to your pleasured, sweaty face. “You’re so fucking good, you know that? So fucking good, the way you talk to me. Telling me what you want. Not gonna hide anything like that from me again, are you?”

“Nuh,” you manage, legs twitching. “Eddie.”

”Again,” he gasps. “Please. My sweet girl-”

“Eddie. Eddie-”

Maybe you keep chanting his name, maybe you cry it out, maybe you stop altogether to scream out instead. You don’t know. You just know he’s all you’re thinking of as the pleasure crests, spreading out from the back of your cunt through your body until it’s intense enough you think you might cry. Then it fades to the gentle delight of Eddie still moving inside you, the warmth and weight of his cock when he buries himself deep. You hear him groan, feel the potential for bruises blooming where his fingers dig into your thighs. Then it’s his weight easing down on top of you, the ache in your shoulders and your legs as you let them relax before wrapping yourself around him.

You finally get your hands in his hair. The roots are damp from sweat, his curls tangled in knots. Eddie’s face is pressed so fully to the space between your breasts that you’re not convinced he can be breathing. He mumbles something that’s lost to your ears, then tilts his head up till you can see his face, and his goofy smile. Your heart aches even as you giggle. Then he’s crawling up your body to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting like the sweat from his upper lip.

“I’m gonna pull out now but I want it known that it’ll take amazing strength of will on my part.”

He does so, disappearing from the bed for less than five seconds to throw out the condom before flopping next to you again and opening his arms to let you clamber into his hold again, you try to fight the rising worries by pressing your face into his neck. He hisses at the scrape of the plastic tiara under his chin, taking it off himself before returning to stroke at your temple with his fingers. “How do you feel, sweet girl?”

It takes you a minute to answer, sorting through all the complicated feelings that emerged the second Eddie wasn’t inside you anymore. “Good,” you murmur. Then, “weird.”

You hate how fast it all happens so soon after something so special. You feel overwhelmed and tired, like you want to scrub yourself raw under hot water, like you want to curl up in Eddie’s arms and smell like him forever. You feel like you don’t want to ever be touched again, but the thought that Eddie won’t makes your heart sore. You wish you were normal. You wish you didn’t have weird fantasies. You wish you didn’t feel guilty about what you want.

Eddie holds you tight against him, and you let yourself feel the comfort of that. Eddie doesn’t think you’re weird, or gross, or immoral. Eddie won’t ever leave you alone to cry and scratch at your crawling skin.

He presses his lips to your forehead, mumbles against your skin. “Gonna let me look after you?”

He keeps you with him while he runs a bath. You’re wrapped in a towel while he runs around naked, giving you mock coquettish looks over his shoulder every now and then until he gets a giggle from you. As steam starts to rise from the tub, he searches through the cabinet under the sink before emerging with a bottle filled with suspiciously bright orange liquid. “We don’t have bubble bath but, uh, this is six-in-one.”

You try sitting in the water together, wrapped up in him, but the pins and needles come too fast, eight limbs not quite fitting as they should. You end up facing him, legs tucked up to your chest, watching the water drip from dark ends of his hair.

“Not as romantic as I’d hoped,” he says.

“It’s okay. I like looking at you.”

His dimples show. Sweetest boy on Earth. He splashes at you a little, waiting for you to smile before talking. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you answer honestly. Somewhere between giggling at Eddie rushing to his bedroom to fetch towels for you both, a hair tie for you, with his hands covering the crack of his ass while leaving his dick uncovered and him quietly insisting on taking the side of the tub with the tap at his back, the grey cloud hanging over you faded. “Cause of you,” you say, splashing him back.

Eddie smiles, resting his face against his knee. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to make it better, like, before it happens?” He reaches for your hand in the water. “Cause it hasn’t, in a while. I know that this was, like, different, but if I did something-”

“No,” you interrupt. “It wasn’t you.” Eddie lets that sit for a while, waiting for you to continue. “When it’s just me and you, it’s like-” You swallow. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being really, actually myself for the first time in my whole life.” Eddie’s eyes are so soft, looking at you now. “And I know that you won’t ever judge me for…my fantasies, or whatever. But then it’s like, it’s almost like- Like without even wanting to, I imagine what other people would say, if they knew the stuff I told you. If they saw how I am, when it’s just us. And then I just feel like, even though they’re not there, it’s ruined it.”

Eddie squeezes your hand, sighs with his whole body. “That sounds exhausting.”

Tears prick in your eyes even as you laugh without real mirth. “It is.”

“Well, you know this stuff really is always going to be just me and you. Right?”

“I know, Eddie.”

“I wish I could fix it for you, sweet thing.”

You close your eyes tight, trying to force back the tears. You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking, me too. Instead, you sigh, remind yourself that however hard it is now, you’re sure it used to be worse. Before you had Eddie and his humour, his touch, his kindness. “You make it better, Eddie. I promise.”

He’s perfectly gentle with you the rest of the evening, curling back up with you on the couch when you’re dry to restart Theatre of Blood. You let yourself sink into his chest, playing with his rings. You are just about engrossed in the story again, watching with sick fascination as the first critic is stabbed like Julius Caesar. Then, a thought suddenly occurs.

“Did…did you say the soap was six-in-one?”

“Sure did,” Eddie answers. “Face, body, hair, laundry, pets and dishes.”

“That’s why it smells like the terrier next door.”

Eddie hums, lifts your hand to his face and sniffs. “You mean that’s why we smell like the terrier next door.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x shy!reader

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perfectwitchcrown · 3 months ago

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Allusions in Make the Exorcist Fall in Love

So far in Make the Exorcist Fall in Love there’s been a lot of allusions to various texts. I thought it might be fun to compile all the ones people have noticed so far as far as I've seen. Some of these are more speculative than others and I will update as I go along. Also, I read Ekuoto as free first read chapters on Mangaplus so unfortunately I can’t go back and check much so this is largely through memory, so if anyone has anything else to add I would greatly appreciate it! All I’ve got is a few screenshots and a dream. If I get anything wrong feel free to correct me! I’ve organized this in order of allusions I’m confident about to allusions I’m less so confident about.

CW: reference to sexual violence

Dante's Divine Comedy and Vita Nuova: Dante Alighieri

This one is pretty obvious since there are characters directly named after the characters figured in Dante’s Inferno. It’s been a long time since I read it, but other details are also taken from the text, such as the frozen center of hell where Satan is located.

Lmao Leah from the Bible (who is probably Leah’s namesake) also shows up in Dante’s Divine Comedy apparently in Purgatorio.

Ok also super important to Dante retellings r Beatrice, who’s used as a symbol of divine love and is instrumental to Dante's journey through hell, purgatory, and paradise, so of course Ekuoto Dante advises Priest to fall in love lmao. So far though there hasn’t been a direct Beatrice in narrative (which there might never be one since the text has already made the Dante-Virgil connection an active choice of Virgilius's to reference the Divine Comedy rather than just an allusion by the author).

To be so real though I figure that Vergilius is probably also intended to be the Beatrice in this narrative.

The points I would draw attention in support of this would be these: 1. Beatrice is the woman who Dante has been in love with since early childhood but unable to ever be with because they both married others. Ekuoto Virgilius and Dante have known each other since childhood, and have something going on. 2. Beatrice is, like Virgil, one of Dante’s guides (through part of purgatorio and paradiso) 3. We still don’t know what Virgilius’s name was before he took that one on. Beatrice does not have a masculine form in current use and I tried finding some sort of nickname that would work and was unable to do so. However. Beatrice’s name is rendered in Japanese as ベアトリーチェ, and Beato is at least a surname. Then again, I’m not sure anyone has both a first name and last name except for Imuri so far???

"Book of Tobit"

I wasn’t familiar w this one so I didn’t notice it until I saw posts pointing it out, but the Asmodeus flashback was a retelling of the book of Tobit. Other people have already done analysis of this so I’d recommend checking other’s out. Unfortunately I failed to save the link to any of them so I can’t pass any along :’) Belfagor arcidiavolo: Machiavelli

Another one that I wasn’t familiar with but have seen people referencing. As above, I recommend checking out other’s analysis. "Those Who Walk Away from Omelas": Ursula K. Le Guin

The Brothers Karamazov: Fyodor Dostoevsky

Ok major spoilers and I also highly recommend this book, but also, its super long so I don’t blame anyone who chooses not to read. This book is about the most disgusting father alive and his three, maybe four, sons: Dimitri, Ivan, Alyosha, and maybe Smerdyakov (rumored to be an illegitimate son). Most of the action follows Alyosha, who is the youngest and probably the most idealistic character in the novel, at least in the beginning. Alyosha starts out as a novice in the local Russian Orthodox monastery under the purview of Father Zossima, an elder who really emphasizes love in religious practice. There's a series of chapters that cover a theological debate between Ivan and Alyosha.

In this theological debate, Ivan is arguing not that God doesn’t exist, but that the foundation of the world as understood by Christianity is something he fundamentally rejects.

Quotations from the Signet Classics edition:

“I don’t accept this world of God’s. Although I know it exists, I don’t accept it at all. It’s not that I don’t accept God, you must understand, it’s the world created by Him I don’t and cannot accept” (Dostoevsky 266) - “If all must suffer to pay for eternal harmony, what have children to do with it?....I understand solidarity in sin among men. I understand solidarity in retribution too; but there can be no such solidarity with children. And if it is really true that they must share responsibility for all their father’s crimes, such a truth is not of this world and is beyond my comprehension” (Dostoevsky 276)

“Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last. Imagine you are doing this but that it is essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature—that child beating its breast with its fist, for instance—in order to found that edifice on its unavenged tears. Would you consent to be the architect on those conditions?” (This quotation, although from a different translation, is the one that inspired Omelas - I think the bowling alley theological discussion between Virgilius and Priest bears some similarities to this conversation. Its not a debate about the existence of god, but rather a debate whether or not the world envisioned by Christianity is inherently unjust or not. Demian: Hermann Hesse

“The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas”

Potential references but tbh they’re a bit of a stretch:

“Book of Martha”: Octavia Butler

"Book of Martha" is an Octavia Butler short story in the Bloodchild collection about an ordinary woman who is visited by god one day who tells her to choose one thing to change about people to try and make the world a better place. It’s a very short read and I’d recommend reading it before you read the next sentence where I’ll spoil the end.

She eventually decides that the thing to focus on is people’s dreams. Specifically, to give them the things they desire most within their dreams, in the hope that people will be less violent to each other in real life. A stretch, but Octavia Butler comes from similar recommendation circles as Ursula K. Le Guin (feminist science fiction authors with overlapping periods of activity) so I don’t think it’s impossible for the most recent chapters' use of dreams to hold some sort of inspiration from this short story. Again, this one is a pretty big stretch, as the idea of dreams to escape reality is pretty common.

The Monk: Matthew Lewis

Ok! So! Demon seduces a person is like not at all an original story (The Daemon Lover, Cazotte’s The Devil in Love, etc etc). BUT! The Monk is specifically a story that’s like. What if there was this extremely virtuous young man who has never lived in the outside world ever because he was raised in the church as an orphan and then the devil sent a demon girl to seduce him.

I have not finished the book yet so I can’t comment in depth on it other than to say the concept is similar but the execution so far is very different (It's a fairly misogynistic text. Ambrosio turns evil in ways that I doubt Priest will because thematically they’d go completely against the story. Also, The Monk is veryyy lurid in terms of Lust is Evil!!! And will turn you into a murdering maniac!!!! Because evil women are out there seducing you!!! Whereas so far sexual desire in Ekuoto has been handled as a perfectly natural thing, but complicated by religion, patriarchy, trauma, etc.)

This is all I have so far but I'd be interested to see if anyone else has any other ideas!

#make the exorcist fall in love #ekuoto #exorcist wo otosenai #meta

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murkycran · 8 months ago

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Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Miscellaneous Vox Fic Rec List!

Soooo after a lot of consideration, I decided to make a third rec list. This one will be for miscellaneous fics, which can mean anything from smaller Vox pairings to fics that are not strictly Radiostatic or VoxVal. You'll see what I mean.

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, too, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Radiostatic Fic Rec List

Staticmoth Fic Rec List

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Alastor Makes a Porno by Charnel_Goat, spappest

Summary: Alastor interrupts Val and Vox's personal time to get his rut over and done with, and they're just going to have to deal with that.

Basically, Alastor and Val try to have a threesome, but they keep arguing, everyone's injuring each other trying to figure out the logistics, and nobody cares what Vox has to say about any of this.

Notes: This has Staticmoth, Radiostatic, and Valastor. It's not strictly leaning more towards any pairing (tho Val does make a pretty sweet comment at the very beginning about Vox lol), which is why it's going on the Misc List. Porn with an edge of hilarity that - despite the tags - made it pretty funny. Three terrible people being terrible to each other. Vox suffers. Heed the tags.

He's Visual, Alright! by dead_boy

Summary: For Valentines Day, Charlotte Morningstar— Lucifer’s brat— had announced the hotel would be hosting a sweetheart poll, allowing winners to vote for the biggest ‘sweethearts’ in Pentagram City! How adorable!

— Of course, when Angel gets involved, things get a little twisted, and hell treats it as a most-fuckable-celebs poll.

Vox isn’t the only one surprised by how high he scored, and how concerning the amount of votes he received was.

But there was no way in hell this “demand” was enough to make him give into Valentino and Velvet’s newest fixation: Making use of this fame and making Vox do some modelling!

Surely he won’t mind the lingerie and toys provided by Velvet and Valentino respectively, right?

edit march 2024: i can’t believe he just won the hottest hazbin character poll. literally manifested

Notes: Poly Vees. Funny af. Vox suffers, but in a good way. Written BEFORE the hottest HH character poll, can you believe that? Lmao.

stray by vol_ctrl

Summary: How Vox met Vark. ♥

Notes: No ship. Written before season 1 release.

After the Credits Roll by leftofrevolution

Summary: Everyone knew the Magnes sometimes liked to spice up their sex life by dragging another demon into the middle of it.

Vox maybe should have paid more attention to that particular tidbit of information than he did.

Notes: Lilith/Lucifer/Vox. Chapter 1 written before season 1 release, with Chapter 2 being released after season 1 release. I read for the crackship, ended up liking the Lilith/Lucifer/Vox dynamic and world-building a LOT. Lol. Poor Vox. Or good for him? Still has yet to be seen.

The Shopping Cart Test by spappest

Summary: Angel never expected Prince Charming to have a TV for a head, but when Vox kills Valentino and saves him from his abuse, well… Maybe Hell doesn’t have to be all that bad. With Val out of the way, everyone can have a happy ending. Angel’s safe, Charlie’s happy, and even Alastor finds love.

Oh, wait. This is Hell. It’s always that bad.

Notes: Angel/Vox. Started before season 1 release. First Staticdust fic I read. :)

Hold Me Up by Sameko

Summary: Vox has been in and out of a relationship with Valentino for years. Always breaking up. Always coming back.

Then one night comes the definitive crack at the expense of one of Valentino's employees, to which Vox never paid much attention other than for shits and giggles.

One night, one word too many, might be enough to shift the perspectives of two people once strangers to each other.

Notes: Staticdust. Pretty bleak and dark at times, but so, SO good. Two broken people trying not to cut each other with their edges while also trying to help each other.

Cruel Melody by Hiding_Behind_a_Pencil_and_Pen

Summary: A man hopelessly in love with a monster, despite how much it hurts.

A person chained to a beast he can never escape, no matter how hard he tries.

Vox and Angel Dust have given their body and heart to Valentino, and neither know how to free themselves from his lies.

But maybe, even if it never gets better, they won't have to suffer alone.

Or,

What if Husk was just a little too late to get to the bar in episode four? And a certain media Overlord helped Angel instead. They find out that they're not so different after all.

Notes: As of now, I think this is Queerplatonic Staticdust.

Revelations in Technicolor by Awesome_Possum

Summary: Velvette had been dead for six years, part of The Vees for four, and fucking Vox for a little over two. They had a good thing going.

On one of their bi-weekly Vox-mandated movie nights, Valentino put a plan into motion and Velvette learned something new and surprising about her business partner and part-time sugar daddy that made a shocking amount of sense.

It ultimately ended up bringing The Vees closer and if Valentino claimed that was his intention all along, no one had any reason to believe him.

Notes: The Vees are a V and Vox is the hinge, so he's in a relationship with both Valentino and Velvette. Interesting headcanons for Vox's human life. :) (What is the ship name for Velvette/Vox again?)

System Shutdown by Swoolie

Summary: Taking a leaf from Alastor's book, Vox goes on a small break from everything.

He doesn't stick around long enough to see the chaos that ensues after his sudden disappearance.

Notes: This is tagged with both Radiostatic and Staticmoth. It's too early in the story to tell definitively which direction it's going to end up, so for now it's going to be on the Misc list. I'll probably move it when it becomes more clear what the main pairing will be.

Dapple Rose by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Everyone always assumes the same thing about Alastor and Vox's relationship: That it's one-sided, that it's based on fixation, and that the reason for their falling out was due to the obsession turning into something that couldn't be controlled.

All of those assumptions are correct. The only problem is, everyone gets the 'who is obsessing over whom' part of the equation wrong.

When Vox and Valentino end up stuck at the hotel, suddenly the entire relationship between the radio and television is put on display, casting it and Alastor in an entirely different light.

Notes: Tagged with both Radiostatic and Staticmoth. Due to both this and the entire story itself (you'll see what I mean when you read it), it's going here on the Misc List. I freaking love this story, because so far I've not seen another fic where Alastor was obsessed with Vox while Vox was not obsessed with him in return. :3 Everything Penny_Tails writes is gold!

Here I Come by Heliosolar

Summary: Vox contemplates his lackluster life as he stands over the edge of the city.

Or, the fall of Vox, both mentally and physically.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. No ships, just Vox. Heed the tags.

Entertainment for Two by Heliosolar

Summary: With the radio demon joining them for the night, Vox puts on a show the two overlords will never forget.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Staticmoth and Radiostatic, at the same time. 😳

Proposition by Snorp_Lord

Summary: Alastor does not, strictly speaking, have a 'relationship' with the King of Hell. But they certainly have a something.

A something which does not include Vox. But Alastor is at least willing to indulge Lucifer in whatever this new idea is.

The new idea is Vox.

Notes: Contains Radiostatic, Radioapple, and Staticapple, but for this installment, Radiostatic is definitely the focus. Very intense, pretty sweet. 😳 Has 2 more parts in the series which are definitely worth the read, though they don't feature Vox as much.

meteor shower by spoondrifts

Summary: alastor, rosie, vox, and a study in non-traditional love.

Notes: QPR Alastor/Rosie/Vox. Very good! (What's the ship name for this?? Radiostaticrose?? Radiorosestatic?? Roseradiostatic?? Staticradiorose??)

spiraling down thy majesty by spoondrifts

Summary: “Okay, um, time out,” Lucifer said, because he felt like they were maybe losing the plot a little. “I feel like I should remind you that I’m not here because I was like, uh, overwhelmed with lust for you, in particular. I’m here because Husk said you were Alastor’s ex and I have poor impulse control and thought it’d be funny, but I’m realizing now that this is actually just really weird and you, my friend, have some serious issues that I am not equipped to handle.”

Or: Lucifer and Vox have a shared problem that starts with Al and ends in stor and has a in the middle—thankfully, there's a solution! (The solution is sex. It's just sex.)

Notes: Staticapple. Revenge sex. As in...they're both getting revenge on Alastor...using each other. Lol.

(Fic rec list to be continued as I read more)

#hazbin hotel #staticdust #staticmoth #radiostatic #staticapple #radiostaticapple #radiostaticrose #hazbin vox #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin valentino #hazbin lucifer #hazbin rosie #hazbin velvette #fic rec list

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justsheerfilth1 · 2 months ago

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Hey gang, big sister moment but I’ve worked really hard this year on building my credit score and making changes after years of financial abuse from an ex, that was then followed by adhd impulse spending when I was finally away from that situation. So despite still being poor, disabled and only able to work two days a week I’ve still managed to make a big change, and thought this would be helpful to fellow poor people sick of advice like “ just save your money and don’t spend on Starbucks every day!” Long post, so strap in:

For context I am Scottish so things may be uk specific however: likely to have similar counterparts in different countries:

1. Started writing down every bill every bank/card it comes from and ticking them off each time they’re paid so I know they’re out the way, have also added them all to my calendar like “nov 8th phone bill £34” for example and that’s helped a suprising deal given how forgetful I can be

2. Get a loqbox account- (or any credit building account) - this actually has made a much bigger difference than I thought it would, it’s an account I pay just a £10 a month to and it informs folk who control credit checks that you’re making regular payments and boosts your score. I’ve never been able to get credit cards or overdrafts even on my bank due to how poor my credit was, had that since June and now my scores went up I have an overdraft and two credit cards (how I’m paying for Invisalign lmao so I’m still skint but will get to that later)

3. The credit cards in question- obvs I have had to use these a bit to try and get these teeth to not be in crumbling agony but I would recommend getting one to build credit, then not using it. Or using it as little as possible, then repaying ASAP if it does get used. I have a Zable one which is for folk who don’t have great credit trying to build it, will send my referral link if anyone wants to apply

4. Prioritising- the most boring one and less relevant if you’ve less bills to pay, but I’ve had to really focus on what I need to pay off most and least. This is the real life version of those “ oh just don’t buy Starbucks every day” posts lmao, but every month as long as I’m like ok the rent payment, council tax, food shop etc the absolute basics are in my savings account so I know I’ve got them there everything else is circumstantial. Even if it’s other stuff that’s important obvs, it’s stuff that can be worked out yknow? I can default on a bill and have to pay extra the next month which is annoying but I’ve still got my roof over my head and food in the fridge type deal.

5. Billing dates (part 2, electric boogaloo) but since writing them down on step one, actually look at the billing dates and when they’re coming out if it works w your bank account payment date. Like mines are scattered throughout the month cos some can’t be changed unfortunately (just depends on the company) but as I’m paid on the 28th the majority of them come out at the last week of each month/first week of next. If it can’t be changed it’s not the end of the world if you make sure there’s money put to the side for it, but if it can try and make sure the dates are on or around your payment dates- you may have to call the companies or w Spotify it’s like cancel the plan then restart it the day you want it to be coming out. But it’s all simple changes that don’t take long

6.Student discounts- if you are a student and have a student number or even know someone who does you can get a lot of discounts on thesethings like Amazon, Spotify etc. check all your outgoings and see if any of them can be changed to a student account for a cheaper rate

7. Selling what I don’t use- not relevant to everyone but I had realised I would at times go online and buy clothes/knick knacks when bored, then not have money to pay bills, and at times the clothes ended up not fitting properly anyway so if that was the case putting them on Vinted and getting money for them was helpful

I’m still working on it an it’s still not as good as I’d like it to be! But it’s however improved drastically and I wanted to share these in case anyone’s been in similar situations to me and is trying but struggling to improve things for themselves ❤️

#financial advice #real advice #credit score #credit scores #working class #poor #advice #students #help #adult adhd #adhd

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staybabblingbaby · 6 months ago

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Janitor AU (Ambush Part) a1 d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader is a member of the cleaning staff at JYP. With a decent history of managing to avoid the idols on staff, Reader keeps to themself and keeps their head down. A chance encounter with SKZ in one of the practice rooms may change that...

Word Count: 1,293

Notes: LMAO Just saw that I already posted this and just didn't put it on the ML. RIP. I'm keeping this one instead of the old one <3

I remember spitting this out really fast and then hitting a dead stop and hating everything about it. Not sure what that was about, it's a pretty standard first attempt for me. Not feeling editing notes rn, so just. have at.

This was pretty heavily inspired by a BTS fic on Ao3 that was MUCH smuttier and about a Brat, but I can't remember the name anymore. If it reads as familiar to anyone, will you please tell me what it reminds you of? I'd love to give proper credits.

Original Notes: This is the first one that really looks like the w.i.p it is lol. The beginning is super awkward and I'll probably redo that entirely. This concept is inspired by another fic, but I'll have to hunt it down bc I can't find it rn. I saw that one and went "I want that but without the smut" and so I wrote it lol. This one needs a lot of work, but I probs got frustrated bc it looks like I left off in the middle of sentence lmao.

Warnings: None that I know of?

Masterlist link |

You hum lightly to yourself as you pull your hairband up from where it rested around your neck and push your hair out of your face. You double check that you have the appropriate ‘cleaning in progress’ and ‘wet floor’ signs up and turn to hijack the sound system every practice room was equipped with.

This was the most envied privilege of your assigned areas - you got to blast your music loud and proud as you cleaned instead of hoping your headphones can go loud enough to be heard over your machines without bursting your ear drums. It was envied in your opinion anyways. You wouldn’t trade areas for anything, even if the stink of sweat was overpowering sometimes.

You can’t help your amusement at the thought that there were some fans of the idols you worked for that would adore having to smell their stank every day. It was just an occupational hazard for you, though.

You’re sure being janitorial staff is no one’s dream, regardless of which building you happen to be cleaning. It works for you, though. You wouldn’t say it had been remotely in your life plan to be scrubbing huge mirrors, or airing out the smell of sweat from the JYP practice rooms, but you enjoyed the peace it allowed you.

Two years out of college, with an unrelated degree, in a country you’d never dreamed of moving to, and you still wouldn’t trade it for the world. The twists and turns of life that had lead you here hardly mattered anymore.

Besides, you don’t see the idols as much as you’d assume for someone who cleaned their practice rooms for a living. It was another privilege of yours, if anyone were to ask your opinion. Not that anyone asked you much of anything, aside from your supervisor. Your quiet existence as just another cog that kept everything running smoothly was soothing to you.

You could be loud and take up space outside of work. Not that you really did, but you could if you wanted to. Maybe you should. You were still virtually friendless a year and a half after getting this job. You only really spoke to your coworkers, and barely at that. Your homebody tendencies continue to sabotage your social life.

You had plenty of online friends, it was fine.

You’ve digressed. No idols equals privilege of your area. Right.

You knew several of the newer folks spent a few weeks after their hire giggling to each other when they got to see the idols just casually hanging around and doing their jobs, but you’d avoided them from the start.

At first it was just because you were shy and many idols had a bit of rbf going on. You’d been incredibly intimidated by both their beauty and their success, and your Korean hadn’t been as eloquent as you’d have liked it to be. By the time you’d spoken to enough trainees to relax around the idols, you’d still been unsure with your Korean. And then when you’d gotten that in order it’d been so long you simply felt awkward.

You’d been working in the building for a year and a half and had done a spectacular job at crossing paths with as few idols as possible. You weren’t about to seek them out now. You’d been sought out yourself a time or two, by idols that were close to the trainees you spoke with more frequently. Apparently you’d been labeled “the nice janitor noona with the snacks” and curiosity and food were fabulous motivators.

It didn’t happen frequently. When you’d asked about it, you’d learned that apparently you were being gatekept by the trainees. Ostensibly so they could keep your snacks for themselves, but you liked to believe they just liked you.

You finally get your phone connected to the speakers and start to blast your work playlist. You can’t help doing a little dancey-dance as you begin to sweep, mop, and wax the hardwood floor. What could you say? Your playlist was simply bop after bop.

You’re in the middle of dipping your mop handle low and pretending to sing along to Fall Out Boy when the door creaks open slowly.

You straighten quickly but there’s no way the person at the door didn’t see you goofing around.

“One sec!” You call out quickly, forgetting to speak Korean in your haste. You dash over to the sound system to pause your music, your ears ringing in the silence. When you turn around you’re confronted with the amused eyes of one Lee Know of Stray Kids.

“Ah, Lee Know-ssi!” You bow quickly but politely in greeting. “I’m sorry, this room is being cleaned right now, it’s not available for practice.”

Lee Know gives you a slow nod, looking like he was holding in a laugh.

“I know, I saw the sign,” Lee Know replies, tilting his head at you. You secretly let out a breath of relief at that. For a second there you’d thought you’d forgotten. “I was just curious who was playing music loud enough to hear outside.”

You immediately fluster at that, waving your hands in front of yourself, “Ahhh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to disturb!” You gesture at the floor machine sitting pretty in the corner of the room with your supply cart.

“I’ll be waxing the floor in a bit, usually the machine is loud enough to cover it. Hadn’t gotten there yet, though.” You laugh nervously, popping your wrists and fingers just for something to do with your hands.

Lee Know shakes his head, waving your apology aside. “No, you’re good, I got to see something fun out of it.”

You’re sure you flush bright red, and you cant help but bury your head in your hands with a groan. You can hear Lee Know stifle a laugh, but you’re too busy languishing in your humiliation to pay attention to him.

After a moment you peak at him from between your fingers. He still looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh at you.

“If I bribe you with snacks will you erase this from your memory?” You plead with him. He raises an eyebrow at you and hums consideringly.

“Depends on the snack.” He finally concedes, prompting you to start towards your cart, much more at ease with a potential solution in sight.

“I’ve got a couple kinds,” You start to explain, “Everyone likes to ambush me for them, so I’ve learned to come prepared.”

You hear another huff of laughter from far closer than you were expecting, Lee Know having wandered over while you were distracted with rummaging though your cart. You have to move several things out of the way before you can grab the small basket containing your prize.

You may have gotten used to being ambushed for snacks, but that also meant you’d gotten used to hiding them so that you’d at least get to eat some of them. You swore the trainees could smell when you had their favorites stocked up. Animals, the lot of them.

“Who’s ambushing you?” Lee Know questions with amusement.

“Everyone who knows I have them.” You reply with false despair. “The trainees have a sixth sense for them, I fear.” Lee know snorts at that and you grin at him with equal mirth.

“Ah, yes, as a former trainee, I can confirm that they do.” He tells you somberly. You click your tongue and shake your head.

“I knew it.” you say, “They only love me for my snacks. And here I thought they just liked to talk.” You place a dramatic hand over your heart, acting hurt and betrayed.

Lee Know chuckles at you, but doesn’t respond as he leans in to

#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #w.i.p fic #skz fanfic #skz fic #w.i.p #baby writes #janitor au

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roll-for-gaslight · 3 months ago

Text

redamancy

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59292709

Tags:

Kristen Applebees & The Bad Kids, Kristen Applebees & Gorgug Thistlespring, Kristen Applebees, Gorgug Thistlespring, Wilma Thistlespring, Digby Thistlespring, Figueroth Faeth, Adaine Abernant, Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Riz , Gukgak, Mentioned The Bad Kids (Dimension 20), The Bad Kids Are Good Friends (Dimension 20), This is an au where the thistlesprings adopt kristen, So it's very gorgug & kristen heavy and the others are mostly just mentioned, Kristen Applebees-centric, POV Kristen Applebees, Good Friend Gorgug Thistlespring, Religious Guilt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Fix-It

Summary:

redamancy (n); the act of loving one who loves you, a love returned in full

Kristen Applebees has her first real sleepover her freshman year of high school. She has a lot more that come after it.

The day Kristen Applebees dies, there’s a friend who dies alongside her. She dies in a high school cafeteria on the first day of her freshman year. She meets god, and he sucks. Her parents crowd around her the second they arrive, pulling her into bone-crushing hugs, and she wishes more than anything to not have to go home.

Note:

Surprise! Yet another Kristen Applebees fic! I want to study her under a microscope lmao

Thanks again to my wonderful betas, Symph and Fawn! I could not do this without you guys <3 <3 <3!!!

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Gorgug catches her arm gently before she can make it to the car and she excuses herself from her parents and their suspicious stares. Once they’re somewhere private, she looks up at him with concern.

“Are you alright? Do you still need healing or something? I think I have some spells left—” she says, but he cuts her off quickly.

“No! Sorry, no, I’m okay, I actually just wanted to make sure you were okay. Dying was really scary for me and I know you probably want to just head home, but I wanted to check in,” he says, his words coming out quiet and quick. It takes her a moment to readjust for the unexpected conversation.

“I’m okay, I think,” she answers after a few moments. “Thanks for asking, though. I really appreciate it.”

Gorgug flushes slightly. “It’s no problem,” he says, and then he pulls a small metal flower out of his pocket. “Here, you can have this if you want it. My parents gave it to me to help me make friends.”

Kristen smiles brightly as she takes the flower. “Thanks, Gorgug. If you ever want to talk about the whole dying thing or anything else, you should text me. I have to go back to my parents, but I really appreciate the flower. It’s pretty.”

Her parents question her on who that weird, orcish boy was, but she doesn’t care. She tells them the truth, that he’s her new friend.

When she does finally make it home, she’s surrounded by all of her Helioic decorations and knickknacks. For the first time in her life, it’s uncomfortable in a way she can’t place. She holds the small tin flower in her hands, the cool metal her only comfort.

— — — — —

Kristen has her first real sleepover her first week of high school. She doesn’t want to go home in the wake of everything going on, so she crashes at the Strongtower Luxury Apartments, but she can’t help feeling bad that they’re all crowding into Gilear’s apartment. She’ll have to go home tomorrow.

— — — — —

Over the next few weeks, she couch hops a bit. She goes home a couple days a week, but does her best to avoid it. She stops going to church, and she stops her daily prayers. She meets Tracker, who raises questions for her that make her friends too uncomfortable for her to get any answers.

It’s after one such awkward conversation that Gorgug pulls her aside when no one else is paying attention. He glances around nervously before speaking, then places a careful hand on her shoulder.

“Do you maybe want to come over tonight? I know you’ve kind of been crashing with Fig and Riz a lot, but there’s room in the tree. Plus my parents have these binders-” he cuts himself off abruptly, flushing with embarrassment. “They just may be able to actually answer some of your questions you keep asking.”

— — — — —

The Thistlespring Tree is huge, but tiny on the inside. It’s clear the ceilings have been raised several feet to accommodate Gorgug’s height, but most things are still scaled down pretty small. The things in common areas that are for Gorgug stick out like a sore thumb, like the armchair big enough that both Digby and Wilma would sink into it entirely, or the bookshelf full of binders half as tall as the two gnomes, or the larger-than-average plates big enough to hold dinner for a still-growing half-orc barbarian. Gorgug’s parents greet Kristen excitedly, already putting out snacks.

“Hiya, Kiddo! This must be one of your new friends you mentioned. You’re Kristen, aren’t you?” Digby asks, and Kristen sends a quick, questioning glance to Gorgug. He looks away, clearly embarrassed by how much he must have told them. Kristen’s smile only gets brighter.

“Yes, sir!” she says. “Gorgug is awesome, and I really appreciate you guys letting me stay here tonight. I hope it isn’t any trouble.”

Wilma smiles softly, glancing between Gorgug and Kristen for a few moments. “Gorgug, sweetheart, why don’t you go make sure the guest room is made up or at least that Kristen has a place in your room if you two want to stay together.” she says, and Gorgug nods quickly. He grabs Kristen’s shoulder in that sweet, comforting way he seems to do a lot before he leaves, giving her a reassuring smile.

Kristen is immediately anxious when he’s gone. It’s one thing to meet her friend’s parents. It’s another thing entirely to be left alone with two nonbelievers strangers.

(“Nonbelievers are dangerous,” her traitorous, horrible mind hisses. The Thistlesprings have been nothing but kind to her, but she finds herself relying on old, repeated mantras from her parents in her moment of stress.)

“We just wanted a chance to say this without embarrassing Gorgug— we’re so happy that you’re here,” Wilma says, her rushed words tearing Kristen away from her thoughts and back into the current moment. “Gorgug’s never really brought friends around, but he was so excited when he met you all that he hasn’t stopped talking about you. We’re happy to have you here, Kiddo, so make yourself at home and our door is always open to you and all your other friends, okay?”

Kristen feels tears sting her eyes as Wilma speaks, and she scrubs them away. “Thank you, ma’am. I really appreciate that, and I’ll pass on the message.”

Gorgug returns, faster than expected. “I set up a pallet for myself in my room, and Kristen can sleep in my bed, if that’s fine with you guys?” he asks. His parents exchange a look, he sighs in exasperation as they go towards the shelf of binders.

“Now, you two kids are welcome to make whatever choices you’re going to make tonight, but first you should know that losing your virginity—” Digby is cut off abruptly by Gorgug’s interruption.

“No! No, Dad, Kristen and I aren’t like that at all. She’s just a friend, and I don’t think either of us are interested in anything other than that.” they glance over at her to see her nod in the affirmative before he continues. “Kristen does have some questions, though, that her parents won’t answer, and I kind of thought she might like the binders.”

Wilma absolutely lights up, moving to pull the very first binder off the shelf. When Kristen takes a peek, the first page says “GIVING THE TALK AND OTHER INTRODUCTORY SEX ED '' in a bold and colorful font. She glances at Gorgug, and he offers an encouraging smile before putting his headphones over his ears.

“What are your questions, Kiddo?” Digby asks, a kind smile in his face.

— — — — —

From there, it's not a big leap for Kristen to start hanging around more. She's spending less and less time at home, and she starts spending the night in the guest bedroom instead of Gorgug’s room. The Thistlesprings make dinner for her, and they don’t make her pray before she touches her plate.

Then the door of her church is ripped up, and they have to kill Daybreak. They find out that the members of her own faith were trying to sacrifice her on the first day of school to open a hellmouth, and she decides she’s never going back there.

Gorgug sends her a worried look after the fight, a deep frown on his face as they interrogate Ragh. Fig approaches her before anyone else has the chance.

“Hey, since your parents are definitely shitty, do you want to stay at my place tonight? We could do a real sleepover, stay up all night partying?” she asks, and Kristen feels an equal mix of loving fondness for Fig’s affectionate tendencies and dread shoot through her at the idea of doing anything other than going back to a warm tree and a familiar bed. She glances at Gorgug over Fig’s shoulder, and he thankfully intervenes before Kristen accepts to be polite.

“I already asked my parents to make sure the guest room is ready for you to come over,” he interjects as he approaches. “Maybe we could all do a big sleepover another night? That was a tough fight.”

Fig lights up at the idea of a big group sleepover. “Yeah! That sounds awesome, dude! Maybe Riz and I can host over at the apartments! It’ll be a blast!” she says, grinning wildly. She pulls Kristen into a tight hug for just a second, giving her the quickest kiss on the forehead. “All right, Kristen Applebees, just text me if you need anything at all. I’ve got you."

— — — — —

The moment they’re home, Gorgug guides Kristen over to the dining table. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate. Do you want some?” he asks, and she nods. He moves around the kitchen quietly for a few minutes, making cocoa for both of them, and in the meantime his parents come in.

“Hi, Kristen!” Wilma says as they both take seats at the table. Gorgug glances over at them.

“Cocoa, anyone?” he asks, and his parents accept his offer with soft smiles.

“Hi, Mr.-and-Mrs. Thistlespring,” Kristen says.

Digby offers her a small, sad smile. “Okay, sweetheart. You know we love having you here, right?” he asks her, and she only nods in response even as an ice-cold wave of panic crashes through her. “Good, because we wanted to talk to you about something. Wilma?” he prompts, and his wife nods.

“Kristen, are things unsafe for you at home? Gorgug said he’s pretty sure your parents have been hurting you.” she asks gently, and Gorgug presses the mug of hot chocolate into her hands.

Her first instinct is to shake her head no, so she does. After a few moments, the motion slows and becomes a nod.

“Okay! Well then, we believe it’s in your best interest to move out of your parents’ house once and for all. And, since you’ll be needing a place to stay, we’d like to offer for you to stay here. How do you feel about that, bud?” Digby asks, his words coming out soft and slow as though she might startle. Kristen is immediately overwhelmed with tears, streaming down her face before she can even think to stop them. Gorgug abandons his task to wrap his arms around her tightly. He rubs her back gently as her tears devolve into full-on sobbing, and he stays just like that until those sobs become careful, shuddering breaths.

— — — — —

Here’s the thing: Kristen has been a big sister her entire life. She doesn’t know a version of herself that hasn’t been responsible for her little siblings. She’s always been proud of the way she looks after them, and she’s recently realized it’s just about the only part of her childhood she doesn’t regret.

It just also means she was less monitored, less taken care of. She’s never been fretted after because by the time she was six she could heal herself. No one had to worry about if she fell out of a tree again or tried to jump out of the swing or hit her head in the pool when they weren’t watching because even if she didn’t heal herself, she was Helio’s chosen and he had a penchant for stepping in if any real danger happened. No one ever needed to fuss over her, and she was fine fixing herself up.

Being a little sister is vastly different.

The Thistlesprings fuss. Kristen thought, at first, that it was just because she was new and they wanted her to feel welcome, but it’s been a few weeks now and she’s still seeing it. Her and Gorgug get in the car together at the end of the school day or come into the tree after a fight and Wilma starts handing out snacks and tending to wounds and asking about homework. It’s sweet, and Kristen kind of likes the feeling, but she doesn’t know how to react or why they worry so much. They do it to Gorgug too, and he just smiles and lets them do as they please.

After a particularly long week of classes and the fight at the Wallace house with Adaine’s sister, they stumble in late at night. Digby and Wilma are asleep on the couch, and despite her appreciation she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Goodnight, Gorgug. Love you,” she whispers, but he’s quick to put a hand on her shoulder and stop her from leaving.

“Not yet! I know we’ll feel better tomorrow, but for right now we should do some first aid. Do you want tea or anything?” he asks, grabbing the first aid kit from the coffee table in front of his parents.

Kristen raises an eyebrow at him. “I think I have another healing word or two in me if you need it,” she offers, somewhat confused. She was pretty sure she had healed him already, but maybe she missed him.

Gorgug shakes his head. “No, no, I’m fine. I meant that gash on your arm, Fig didn’t have enough spell slots left to heal it. Sit down, I’ll clean it and wrap it up,” he says, his tone assuring and warm in a way that mirrors his parents. She sits down, laughing softly to herself. Gorgug laughs, because he’s one of those people who always laughs when his friends do, and Kristen thinks it’s sweet.

“What’s so funny?” he asks after a moment.

“You’re just like your parents,” she says, “You guys worry a lot.”

Gorgug blushes slightly, ducking his head slightly to hide it. “Yeah, I guess we do. It’s just…” he hesitates slightly. “They told me once that both of their love languages are acts of service. It’s why they never mind fixing stuff when I break it, and it’s why they want to fix us up after fights stuff like that. I think I feel kinda the same way. Like I like getting to help my friends, and most of the time that means hitting things or breaking down doors, but sometimes it means bandaging you up or reaching the top shelf, y’know?” he explains. He speaks quietly, occasionally glancing over to the couch to be sure he hasn’t woken up his parents. Kristen’s heart melts at his words.

“That’s really sweet, Gorgug. I always liked taking care of my brothers, plus I’m a healer so I obviously love taking care of you guys. It just feels a little different when I’m the one being taken care of, I guess.” she says, smiling.

Gorgug’s head cocks to the side not unlike a confused puppy, and Kristen giggles until he asks his question. “I mean, other than your parents, right? Like, they sucked, but did take care of you, didn’t they?”

The second the words are out of his mouth, he looks like he wants to apologize. Kristen remembers the Harvest Festival; she remembers the searing, oppressive heat sitting heavy on her sunburnt shoulders, and she remembers staying on her feet until she can’t stand it anymore. She wakes up alone in a dark room, magically healed. Her brothers are excited to see her when she finds them, but her parents are already asking how her prayer went, if she communed with Helio the way she sometimes did. No one asked if she was okay.

Kristen shrugs. “They did some things, but probably not as much as they were supposed to. I’m a healer, that kind of thing has never been an issue. And then I guess I always did more of the taking care of my brothers stuff.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, then Gorgug pulls her into a tight hug.

“I’m glad you’re with our family now. You deserve to be taken care of.” he says softly, and Kristen feels tears spring to her eyes. She buries her head into Gorgug’s chest, her breath coming in quick, wet gasps due to an inability to control her tears. He makes no attempt to pull away.

— — — — —

When they get the pictures on Johnny Spells’s phone of their homes on fire, she can admit privately that she’s more worried about the Thistlesprings than her own parents. A bigger part of her feels guilty for feeling that way, and even with that feeling she’d never abandon her little brothers in their time of need.

When Gorgug takes off, there’s a moment of hesitation before he does so, a glance back at Kristen where he expects her to follow, but then he just gives her a quick nod and a reminder to stay safe before he’s gone.

When she gets to their house and finds everyone fine, she finds herself calling Gorgug without waiting to explain to her parents. She’s already running down the street, down towards Little Branch and the Thistlespring Tree. Gorgug answers on the first ring.

“Are they okay?” she asked immediately, surprised by the ragged quality of her own voice. Somewhere far off behind her, Adaine is chasing her down, shouting after her, but she doesn’t care.

“They’re alright, Kristen, they broke out the tank and took care of everything before I even got here,” he assures her, and that’s all it takes for her to finally slow to a stop, chest heaving. “I think they’re going to fight Fallinel’s army, though? I’m not really sure, but they’re okay, I promise.”

— — — — —

When they’re looking for Riz, Adaine narrowly stops Gorgug from killing her in a vicious rage. She doesn’t explain her vision immediately, but mentions it offhandedly later. Kristen sees the way Gorgug’s shoulders fall slightly. She waits a while, catching him alone that first night in the van just before he manages to fall asleep by slipping into his area of the moon haven and resting beside him the same way they often lay on his bed at home on difficult nights. The nightmares that follow an adventure like their freshman year are easier to handle with company.

She pokes him in the arm a few times while he opens an eye to peer at her curiously. There’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip at her prodding.

“Are you alright, Kristen?” he asks softly, and she nods.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she responds, “I’m more worried about you. Adaine’s vision, the one from Riz’s office, it seemed to really bother you.”

Gorgug looks surprised, but he reaches out to ruffle Kristen’s hair affectionately. “I’m okay. It’s just– My parents raised me in a very particular way.” he admits quietly, frowning and taking several long moments to parse through his thoughts. “They love me, and I know that, and they don’t mind that I’m too big for their house or that I eat more than both of them combined. But they always wanted me to be super well-adjusted and they taught me all these ways of channeling my feelings into other things so I didn’t hurt anyone, and I can’t help but think that… Maybe I’m letting them down by being a barbarian. I thought that as long as I could use my rage to protect you guys it wouldn’t be a problem, but according to what Adaine saw I could have killed her today. I just feel like maybe I haven’t made the right choice.”

Kristen thinks for a while about what Gorgug was saying. “I don’t think you’re letting them down, or that being a barbarian means that you’re not doing what they raised you to do. I don’t see how it’s any different from when Adaine or Fig or I cast spells on people, really, it’s just the best way you can protect the people you care about. I think… Digby and Wilma care that you’re a kind, happy person, and I can vouch that you’re one of the kindest people I know,” she says softly. “Are you happy?”

Gorgug smiles softly, then pulls her into a hug. “Yeah, I think I am. I think I want to try and get better at some other stuff too, but I’m really happy that I get to protect you guys,” he says. Kristen settles into the hug, basically in his lap for a few moments before they both pull away.

— — — — —

Kristen is dead again. This is the second, but technically the third time if you counted what happened at prom. She doesn’t tend to.

It happened very quickly this time. It wasn’t some kind of fight; she didn’t even know her and Fabian weren’t alone. But, sure enough, there’s a sharp pain in her chest and then she’s gasping for breath, reaching up to grasp the thing— the horn , she notices belatedly — speared through her, sticking a solid six inches out of the front of her chest. She hears someone screaming, and she thinks it’s Fabian and then there are more voices shouting and then everything gets fuzzy. The next thing she knew, all her friends were gone and she… she wasn’t dead, but she wasn’t alive either. But that’s not really the point.

The point is that right here, right now, as she’s running through the forest and doing her best to stay moving. It’s hard, though, and there’s a part of her that desperately, desperately wants to just give up. She’s all alone, and her new goddess (maybe?) can’t help her, and Tracker’s gone and her friends are gone and it would be so much easier to just give up.

(She thinks it would be different for the others. It would be different if Fig were in her place, with seven parents to grieve if she dies, or Fabian, when Hallariel just started getting her shit together for him, or Riz, who’s the only person his mom has in the whole world.

“At least if it’s just me,” says those same terrible whispers in the back of her mind, “no one will care. I don’t have any family left who cares.” )

At that thought, her right foot catches on her own left heel, and she goes sprawling across the forest floor. She feels the squish as the blood on her shirt sticks to the leaves below her, and tears well up in her eyes. She takes a slow, deep breath, doing her best not to cry for a few moments though she can’t help it when the first small sob escapes her lips. It’s then that she hears it, the familiar voice in the back of her mind.

It’s Gorgug. Keep going.

His voice is warm and strong, and it’s almost like she can feel him beside her. It’s like they’re hugging, his voice rattling her head where it presses up against his chest. She remembers that night a year ago when Digby and Wilma offered her a home, the smell and taste of hot cocoa as Gorgug hugged her tight, like she was precious and loved. She remembers the small tin flower, the cool and comforting feel of the metal under her fingertips. She remembers that last time she was truly dead, he was too. She remembers they both came back.

It’s Gorgug. Keep going.

Kristen pushes herself up with the palms of her hands, a sharp rock digging into the calloused skin. She stands up. She can do this for Gorgug. For her family.

She keeps going.

— — — — —

When she’s alive again, he hugs her for real. His arms are at least three times the size of her own, and he lifts her off the ground when he does it.

“Gorgug!” she says, scared and sad and shell-shocked and ecstatic to see him, “I died again!” she finishes with a laugh.

He gives a soft, exasperated huff of laughter at her bluntness, but she can tell it’s tinged with sadness. “I know,” he tells her, tightening the hug just a little bit, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

She feels it, in that moment, just how hurt he would have been. She hugs him tighter too.

— — — — —

When they get home, Digby and Wilma are excited to hear how everything went. When Kristen tells them she died, they both burst into tears she didn't expect. They pull her into a hug that Gorgug joins a moment later, wrapping his arms around all three of them.

“We love you so much, Kiddo,” Digby says softly, “I don’t know what we’d do if we lost you, if we lost either of you. You’re our babies.”

For the first time since she’s been alive again, Kristen cries. Wilma’s hand moves up to gently pet her hair.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Kiddo. Just let it out. You’re home now, and everything’s going to be okay,” she assures her.

— — — — —

When they get home from the Night Yorb quest, Gorgug is greeted with a box of stuff from Zelda’s and Kristen is greeted with academic probation. According to Wilma, Jawbone had hooked them up with the information they needed to try and fix this. They’re perfectly kind and understanding, and Digby offers to help her study like he apparently did with Gorgug a few years ago when he struggled in middle school.

“Are you sure?” Kristen asks, “Because I’m—” she pauses. If she says something too negative about herself, Digby and Wilma will sing the positive self-talk song and try to cheer her up, and it’s four in the morning, so it’s easier to just do it right the first time. “I mean, I’ve never been good at school, and I’m not easy to teach. Plus, what I’m having trouble with is cleric stuff. Isn’t that a little outside your wheelhouse?” she asks kindly, hoping not to hurt his feelings.

Digby just looks more determined. “No one is unteachable, Kris. And even if it’s not necessarily something I’m good at, I can help you research what to do and help you get started. We’ll figure it out together, Kiddo, I promise. We’ve got your back,” he says, and WIlma nods in agreement.

Kristen feels a warmth deep in her chest as she looks at the two of them, “Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom. I would really appreciate that.” she says softly, and there’s tears in all of their eyes as they go to bed that night.

— — — — —

It’s for her sake that they take the Last Standard exam. They’re told it will kill them, and that they have to rely on Helio’s light Buddy Dawn to bring them back to life. The thought of it makes Kristen feel like she’s suffocating, like she’s burning from the inside out.

It makes her feel fourteen years old, standing in the Aguefort cafeteria choking on the taste of holy corn, the hot, sticky blood oozing from the back of her head where it hit the ground.

When she goes to bed the night before, Gorgug appears in her doorway.

“You okay?” he asks softly, just shy of actually stepping inside the room until she invites him, scooting over to make room on the bed. He joins her quickly.

She shrugs in response at first, unable to find the right words to respond with. There’s nothing that comes to mind.

“Are you scared to die again?” she asks finally, surprising even herself. Gorgug wraps an arm around her shoulders, leaning his head on top of her own.

“A little,” he admits softly,”But can I tell you something?” he asks, and she nods. “I think I’m more scared that I won’t be able to protect you guys,” he says. Kristen thinks of how she wasn’t alone on the cafeteria floor, how Gorgug apologized last time for not being there for her. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Kristen says, and he squeezes her tighter. “But I’m more scared of not being able to heal you guys.”

— — — — —

When they’re fighting in the stadium the next day, they stay up defiantly. Gorgug is not some freshman barbarian with no friends going into his first rage and trapped in hell. Kristen is not small and frail, but seventeen and strong because she worked like hell for it. Gorgug remains the only line of defense between the party and the purple wyrm, strong and steadfast as always. Kristen peers into the unknown and catches Buddy Dawn’s murderer in the act. She heals her party with Cassandra’s sacred twilight, and no one goes down.

— — — — —

Seacaster Manor is flying through the air, the storm swirling around them. The boat careens from side to side as dragons surround them Gorgug and Kristen are the last two on the deck for right now. Fire rains down on them, and Kristen feels it when she dodges a little two slow, flames licking up her back for a few moments as she ducks behind a pile of rigging and supplies. She looks over and can just make eye contact with Gorgug, who’s steering them to the best of his ability. His attention zeroes in on her for a moment when they lock eyes, and he lets out a somewhat manic laugh at the severity and ridiculousness of their situation.

“Remember when we died?” he calls out, laughing and dying and scared and still going. Kristen’s eyes light up as she realizes the joke he’s making, shocked laughter falling from her lips as well.

“It might happen again!” she shouts back, and they’re both still laughing when she casts a healing spell over the party, bringing him back up as much as she can.

They’re not dying today.

— — — — —

The twilight forest is cool and comforting. Kristen settles in nicely, but she still feels like she’s waiting for something. That final piece settles into place when Gorgug approaches, and he’s smiling.

“You look better,” he says.

Suddenly they’re fourteen again, but they’re not dying on the cafeteria floor. They’re standing in front of Aguefort Adventuring Academy, and she just saw Fabian punch him in the stomach, and she’s asking if he’s okay. She’s Helio’s Chosen and he’s the least angry barbarian just looking for his dad.

They’re not dying on the cafeteria floor, he’s checking in, in the after. They’re different than they were before.

They’re having dinner together in the Thistlespring tree. They’re in the van, huddled between blankets. They’re in the Nightmare King’s forest, and they’re still going. They’re doing homework with her legs thrown across his lap on her bed, heavy metal playing in the background. They’re fighting dragons. They’re defying death.

They’re seventeen in a twilight forest. The fight is over. She’s Saint Kristen Applebees, Prophet of Cassandra. He’s the world’s first barbarian artificer, clever and inventive and strong enough to survive it all.

“I know, so do you!” she says, and then they’re both laughing as he pulls her into a tight hug.

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